Paragon of Skills

Chapter 63


Calantha stands across from me with her jaw clenched and her face drained of blood. Her eyes dart between my hand, where the last flicker of Dark Lattice fades, and Lord Aulus, who lies sprawled at my feet.

The color has drained from his lips, and his chest rises with shallow, uneven breaths. The arrogance she always wears has evaporated, replaced with something raw and frightened.

For a second, she refuses to move, her hands hanging at her sides, knuckles whitening as she grips the empty air where her sword used to be.

"What?!" she spits, her voice wavering with disbelief. The sound cracks like ice under too much weight.

I take a step closer, making sure she sees the hard set of my jaw.

"I'll spare his life," I say, keeping my voice as flat and cold as the Skill I just used. "You just have to give up."

Calantha glares at me, her pride still pushing back against the inevitable. She glances down at Lord Aulus again and tries to will him to stand, but the man doesn't even twitch. His eyes roll back into his skull, and his breathing grows fainter by the second.

Felisia steps up beside me with a sword in her hand.

"He's going to die if you keep this up, Calantha," she says, her voice unwavering. "We both know it."

The room goes silent except for the ragged, desperate gasps coming from Aulus. Calantha's fists tremble, and for a moment I think she might attack out of pure frustration, but then she sees the way I watch her—without fear or mercy, but with the certainty that if she makes the wrong move, she'll join him on the floor.

Something inside her snaps. She squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a long, shaking breath. When she opens them again, her arrogance is gone, replaced by a deep and bitter acceptance.

"I give up," she says, her words quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear. "You win, Jacob Cloud.

There is no applause. There is no triumph. Even Veyl and Adrienne stand silent, their expressions unreadable.

The only sound is the heavy, stuttering breathing of Lord Aulus, and the distant whine of wind through cracks in the arena walls.

* * *

We gather at the obelisk in the center of the arena. Each of us produces a keystone, a jagged chunk of mana-infused stone that we earned by defeating the mini-bosses and completing our individual trials.

Veyl holds his with a loose grip, his face blank except for the faintest crease between his brows.

Adrienne's lips are pressed into a thin line as she pushes her keystone into the slot.

Felisia glances at me with an uncertain smile, as if even she cannot believe we made it this far.

The moment the last keystone sinks into the obelisk, a pulse of energy erupts from its core. The world shudders, and the walls of the arena peel away like sheets of paper caught in a storm. I feel my body pulled forward and stretched, as if every atom is racing to keep up with itself.

A second later, we stand in a new world. My feet touch down on cool grass, and the air smells like thunder, stone, and distant rain. The sky glows with a strange, golden light, and the land stretches in every direction, unbroken and wild.

I take a moment to process what I'm seeing.

I grew up in Shit's Creek, and anyone who's been there knows it's a place where dreams go to die. The water runs brown, the hills sag with rust, and even the air tastes like disappointment.

Clearwater Bay has some natural beauty, with the sea curving around white cliffs and forests crowding the shore, but even that pales beside the sight before me.

All around us, the ground rolls with waves of green.

Trees climb high and bend over rivers that cut through the earth like glass blades. Magmatic rocks jut from the hillsides, their black faces streaked with veins of glowing red.

Far off, I see waterfalls tumbling from mountain ledges and rivers of light pouring into deep blue lakes.

Mist drifts over the valley floors, catching the sunlight in a hundred fractured rainbows.

For a moment, I forget the pain in my arms and the exhaustion dragging on my soul. I just stand and stare.

Even Veyl, whose face is usually unreadable, has to stop and take it in. Adrienne's mouth hangs open. Felisia grips my sleeve as if to remind herself she's not dreaming.

In the distance, almost lost in the haze, I spot a pillar of light. It pulses and shimmers, so bright that even the midday sun cannot drown it out. My heart thuds in my chest, and I know—without anyone telling me—that the race ends there. That is where the throne waits.

The spell breaks fast. The others snap out of their trance and remember why we're here. This is not a sightseeing trip. This is a fight for survival and for victory.

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Veyl turns toward the mountains and grunts.

"Start going," he says, glancing at Adrienne. "I'll keep up on foot."

Before Adrienne can answer, lightning arcs around Veyl's body. The smell of ozone floods the air, and in an instant, he's nothing but a blur surging up the slope, feet barely touching the ground.

Adrienne shakes her head, her eyes full of contempt. She turns to Felisia and lets out a dry laugh.

"It's nice that you came this far, Felisia," she says, her voice dripping with mock affection. "Once I take father's place, you'll serve me well."

Felisia squares her shoulders and steps forward, refusing to give an inch.

"Once I take power, you will be exiled," she says, not bothering to hide her hatred.

Adrienne's jaw clenches, and for the first time, her mask of cool arrogance slips. She glances at me, then back at Felisia.

"You really think you can stand against me?"

Felisia only stares her down. Adrienne huffs and gives up pretending at kindness. She sweeps a strand of hair over her shoulder, then turns her attention to the task at hand.

With a flick of her wrist, she summons water from the air. It spins around her arms and gathers at her back, forming translucent wings that glint in the sunlight. She looks down at Felisia, flashing a cruel smile.

"What? Never seen wings before?"

Felisia frowns, refusing to answer. Adrienne launches herself into the air, wings beating hard and fast. The rush of water churns up wind that tugs at our clothes. She shoots forward like a bolt from a crossbow, rising higher and higher.

I watch her go, measuring her speed and height, and I frown because she's faster than she has any right to be. She's burning through mana at a ridiculous rate, but her reserves must be massive. I see her silhouette flicker as she alternates between flying and running, switching to conserve power.

Veyl moves up the hill in a zigzag, taking advantage of every outcropping of stone and every updraft. Lightning crackles at his heels. I know I cannot afford to fall behind.

Felisia glances at me.

"Are you sure you can keep up with that?"

I grin and summon Infernal Wings of Ash, letting the Skill pulse through my back. Ash and flame swirl together, weaving into wings that look both fragile and deadly. The wings stretch outward, casting a shadow over the grass.

"Hold on," I say, scooping Felisia up before she can protest.

Her face goes red as a beet.

"Put me down! What are you doing?"

"We're not running," I say, tucking her into a firm hold. "Unless you want to try flying on your own."

Felisia groans but clamps her arms around my neck. I launch upward, the wings beating with a rhythm that almost matches my heartbeat. The sensation of flight hits me all at once—wind howls past my ears, the ground drops away, and every part of my body aches with the strain of holding Felisia and keeping us stable.

Infernal Wings of Ash has reached level 73, but progress has slowed to a crawl. Every new level takes more and more effort. In life-or-death fights, I can push through barriers, but here, it's a grind. Without that pressure, I keep running into invisible walls. The flaws I've spotted in the channels and the way the energy bleeds off into the air mean I waste at least twenty percent of my output every time I take flight.

Grimoire, give me more instructions on how to make Infernal Wings of Ash more efficient. I call up the Skill's interface and see new notes blinking into place.

The Grimoire displays:

Rising Sun leaks mana on sharp turns, causing turbulence and drag.

Lower spinal Root Veins create backflow that disrupts sustained lift above 50 meters of altitude.

I stare at the floating words, trying to visualize the channels and correct the flow in real time. Felisia's grip tightens as we tilt sideways on a gust. My mind races, searching for the right rhythm. The pressure mounts as Adrienne pulls farther ahead. Hatred for these nobles burns in my chest. All the slights, the sneers, the sabotage—each one fuels me, sharpening my focus.

Suddenly, I feel something shift inside. Adrenaline surges through me, and the world narrows down to the fire in my blood and the pulse of mana in my veins. I force the mana through the channels, fixing the problems. Now that I'm feeling more focused, it feels much easier—diamonds are created under pressure, I get.

The wings stabilize, and the drag vanishes.

"Careful," Felisia says, her voice softer now. "I don't want to fall."

"You won't," I promise, tightening my hold just a bit. I never take my eyes off the horizon.

Infernal Wings of Ash jumps six levels, surging to almost level eighty.

We shoot forward. I overtake Adrienne, cutting through the air so fast that I leave a trail of black ash and sparks behind us. The mana drain eases, and the wings feel lighter.

* * *

Adrienne flies high, feeling the strong drain from Water Wings on her Mana reserves.

She's in the latter stages of Gold Rank, but this is a Diamond Skill, something beyond her current level. She'll never be able to keep it up until they reach the throne. However, she can alternate flying and running, which makes her much faster than even Veyl.

She has to admit that, during this trial, the Elf has been getting more and more on her nerves.

That peasant definitely has some tricks up his sleeve, but Sir Renquell gave me a Diamond Skill. There's nothing they can do—

"Your control over that Skill is pretty pathetic," Adrienne hears someone right above her and cranes her neck upward to see none other than Jacob Cloud, holding her younger sister, Felisia, in a princess carry, and flying with ease.

"HOW?!"

* * *

I look down at Felisia. Her face is scarlet, and her hands grip my tunic so hard I'm surprised she hasn't torn it.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask, concern overriding the thrill of flight. Maybe the cold air is too much, or maybe the pressure is messing with her head, or maybe she's just never been this far off the ground before.

She glares back at me, her eyes wide and unblinking. We're so close that I can feel the heat of her breath on my face.

"Shut up!" she snaps, punching my chest. The impact makes me drop a few meters before I regain balance.

"Ouch," I groan. "What was that for?"

"Shut up and look ahead! Don't have us crash somewhere!"

"Alright, alright," I say, steering us higher and farther. The wind stings my eyes, and I blink rapidly.

Grimoire, I think, hoping for a lifeline. Do you have any information on what's wrong with her?

The Grimoire offers no advice.

Even a Rainbow Skill can't figure out women.

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