Paragon of Skills

Chapter 92


I'm fucked, no flaws? I mutter internally, and I swallow.

"Come on, bastard! Show us something!" Sabrina Margrave shouts while I look at the barrier.

Cloud.

Fuck, what do I do? This is bad. The barrier has Flaws, I think to myself.

Cloud.

Shut up for a second, I'm thinking. Maybe I'll use Black Flame, which could create some flaws? Like maybe a chip or two? Then with the Grimoire--

CLOUD, YOU IDIOT, LISTEN TO ME!

WHAT?!

The barrier will not break with your Black Flame.

Oh. Am I screwed?

You stupid, idiotic, moronic, absolutely demented Human. What did I swear to you? Who am I?

An Infernal? Royalty? I'm so lost, I don't have a witty, snarky reply.

I'm your MASTER, Cloud. Your Teacher. Your Tutor. I loathe the idea of handouts, but… I know that the bastard up in the bleachers doesn't think you can make it. And if I know well enough from my time at the Academy as a Vice Principal, that son of a bitch is making a bet RIGHT NOW.

What? Who?

Shut up and listen. I want to get back to him. He doesn't know I'm here. He can peer into people's Skills easily, but I'm at the very core of your soul. He wouldn't know unless he shattered your soul. So, do what I say and do not question me.

* * *

Kai watches his brother hesitate in front of the barrier for so long that now the whole arena murmurs. Stone seats rise in tight rings, and they hold a thousand shifting faces and armor plates and robes. The sun glares on polished helms and on the transparent wall that hangs over the pedestal like a pane of river ice. Every Champion has taken the barrier apart in seconds. The fact that Jacob takes this long does not bode well at all.

Then they all see Jacob summon Hellbane's Sword. The blade forms with a low thrum and a trace of smoke that smells like oiled iron, and the edge throws back the sunlight in a narrow, flaring light.

"That's not high-level," Asterion is the first to speak. "Is it, Princess?"

"No, perhaps level thirty, at best," Princess Iskara frowns.

"I don't get it," Vyrrak looks as confused as the other two members of a Great Race.

Everyone else falls silent until Jacob starts… tapping.

"What's the lad doing?" Boomgar Blackpowder places his palm above his eyebrows so he can block the sun, and he squints. "What's that? Is that a Skill?"

"He's just tapping the barrier," Zibrek replies from the side, and she still has her goggles on. "There's a little mana leaking out of his Skill."

"Is this for real? Are we waiting for a peasant to humiliate himself?" Sabrina Margrave trembles with anger. "My time is more valuable than this!"

* * *

"Someone's going to lose," the Headmaster gloats. "So, I think one of you will learn some excrement-oriented Skills in order to help with the fields. I really want to make sure we have extra grain this year."

Vice Principal Lyanna frowns, and Vice Principal John does the same.

However, Dean Amenotep still smiles.

"Anything funny, Dean Amenotep?" the Headmaster asks.

"Headmaster, do you know what Cloud's greatest talent is, apart from whatever his Rainbow Skill is?"

"What?" the Headmaster asks, curious.

"He's clearly lucky."

The answer floors everyone.

"For everything sacred, unholy, and cursed," Vice Principal Lyanna curses, "we're going to be learning excrement processing Skills, aren't we? Damn it!"

* * *

Two, one, two. Follow the rhythm, King Baalrek commands. This is a good barrier, but Infernals are MASTERS at barriers, Cloud. This kind will react with the same hardness to each single blow. Keep the rhythm. Two, one, two. Great. Its circuitry, its mana, hardens every time you tap it. Now, switch. Three, two, one, three, two, one. Like that, exactly.

I follow King Baalrek's instructions and keep tapping the barrier with light, firm strokes, letting Mana leak onto it with each touch. The shield is as tall as a house door and as clear as glass, yet faint glyphs crawl under the surface like pale veins, and the taps pop off it with a glassy ring that the arena carries back to me. Heat shimmers above the pedestal, and dust motes drift through the light like slow sparks. King Baalrek explained that the mana in a barrier like this hardens and solidifies only as the blow hits it. Before that, it rests so the spell consumes less mana. Because it reacts on demand, it turns into a much more powerful barrier.

"Is he playing a beat?" someone asks from the bleachers as the rhythm echoes around the stone.

"I mean, I could do the same. Why are they not kicking him out yet? What's this farce?"

"I don't know. This is getting absolutely ridiculous."

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Activate Architect's Insight as you keep tapping. Now, don't look at the flaws. Have your Skill point out the weak points through your eyes. You should see something soon, but switch to five, one, five, one. Good. You're slowly overloading the circuits. By alternating between fast and slow, the barrier is unable to adapt. It's not going to be as solid, and the mana you're bleeding over it is slowly creating chips. They're too small for now, and they'll be filled if you don't act fast enough once the opportunity is there. But get ready. You're about to see it.

I obey, and I change the cadence. The surface ripples so faintly that I doubt myself, and then fine red threads stretch under the glyphs for a heartbeat, and they fade. Sweat beads on my brow because the pattern taxes my focus, and the sword tip leaves little smears of heat-haze each time it touches the shield.

* * *

"Guys, you're really dumb," the Minotaur Vice Principal says to the two Vice Principals and the Dean. "This is ridiculous. Are we stopping it already?"

Vice Principals Lyanna and John grow more and more desperate with each passing second. Still, Dean Amenotep, who really wants to get his hands on an Orichalcum Skill from the Headmaster's collection, raises his eyebrows when he sees the Headmaster become very serious.

"Is everything good, Headmaster?" the Dean of Admissions asks.

"This knowledge… he shouldn't have it. The kid has an ace up his sleeve. But… how?"

The two Vice Principals perk up, and they look at each other with excitement.

"What is it?" Vice Principal John asks.

"Barrier knowledge. Extremely advanced knowledge. This is… I know a handful of people who could have known what to do in this situation. But they're all dead—well, one, actually…"

The Headmaster starts laughing.

"It's that unruly, arrogant bastard. Isn't he? Infernal Skill Set, Infernal Class," the Headmaster squints and smiles. "Yes. That bracelet. It's him. Son of a—"

* * *

NOW!

I see a fist-sized red stain appear on the barrier, and I activate Infernal Veins, and a lot of people in the stands gasp because my veins ink themselves with black fire.

Diavolo Draw.

I use my fastest Skill, and I plunge the tip of Hellbane's Sword into the barrier.

The weakened part feels like gum, and the point sinks in as if the shield swallows it, but it does not break yet.

MORE POWER, CLOUD! MORE POWER! STOP HOLDING BACK!

I grit my teeth and I summon the Dark Blade.

I wish I could have looked cooler! I didn't want to go all out!

The barrier starts pushing me back even though my attack bites deep, so I fuse the Dark Blade into Hellbane's Sword, and I feel a massive draw on my Mana, and I also summon the Infernal Wings of Ash so that they can propel me forward, and I beat them as hard as I can.

As the fusion completes, one sword remains in my hand in place of Hellbane's Sword, and I press it on the weakened part.

It's now or never!

I unleash all the might of Black Flame.

The air buckles around me, and black fire pours out of my core and climbs along my arms like smoke that burns. Heat lashes my cheeks, and the arena stones glow dull red where sparks fall. The blade drinks the dark fire, and the metal turns so black that it shines. The barrier throws a harsh white glare across the edge, and that glare trembles as the flames coat my hands and crawl over my shoulders without pain because the fire knows me. Ozone stings my nose, and the shield hisses like fat on hot iron. Cracks sketch faint spider lines under the point as pressure builds and the glyphs sputter. My ash wings snap once, and a hard gust shoves me forward so that the tip bites deeper. The roar in my ears drowns the crowd, and the world narrows to the ruby stain that swells as if I push into softened glass.

For a moment, I still feel resistance as I move forward step by step, and it feels like I push a bubble of superheated glass. Then the black flames envelop my body, and I finally pierce the barrier, which cracks and shatters. The break is so slow that I grow nervous about whether I even succeeded.

Large pieces fall inside around the pedestal, and they ring like thin bells when they hit the stone, and I step back.

I deactivate all my skills, step forward, and take the white token. Then, I turn toward the Goblin Vice Principal.

"All good?" I ask with a smile.

After everyone goes silent for one stunned breath, the bleachers erupt. Boots drum on stone and cloaks whip as people jump to their feet and a wave of shouted names rolls around the arena.

The Goblin Vice Principal looks at me with a kind smile and she nods and she takes my tokens and she exchanges them.

"Jacob Cloud! He is the one who inaugurates the Generation of Legends! It's been more than a thousand years since we saw one! Prepare, students. This is going to be perhaps the greatest cycle the Academy has ever had!"

* * *

There is a banquet, and all the Champions get ushered into it. The corridor to the hall smells like butter and pepper and hot sugar, and servers in crisp vests carry silver domes that breathe steam. We enter a cozy room, and we stand as we look at the seats because we do not know exactly what to do here. Banners in deep purples and reds hang between tall mirrors, and dark wood panels climb the walls in neat squares, and a giant crystal chandelier hangs over our heads and throws slow rainbows across polished tables.

Sabrina Margrave tries to complain that she does not want to share a meal with us, but the Goblin Vice Principal tells her that it is not a choice, and she shows a very toothy smile.

It feels like they want Sabrina to mess up, but it appears that even these Margraves can show common sense.

We sit at a table and the food stacks five or six times our height. Platters hold whole river fish with eyes like coins, and their skin shines with oil. There are mountains of roasted roots and stacks of spiced flatbread, as well as armored pitchers that sweat with cold. Knives and forks gleam like a line of tiny spears, and the plates are heavy and warm from the kitchen.

Soon, the Headmaster enters alone, and no other Vice Principals come with him.

"Hello, Champions. I bet most of you are familiar with the position, and you must also be aware of the associated rewards and responsibilities. But let me refresh your memory. This is not a common noble title that can be used to bully others. Champions are those who can take greater challenges than a normal student; therefore, their nurturing is something the Academy pays close attention to. It doesn't happen often, but if your power is not befitting your station, you'd better hurry up to catch up, or you will die very soon while trying to exploit this title."

He's talking about you, King Baalrek says.

I know.

"Champions are required to take Special Quests. They're hard tasks that often transcend their Rank. But they're also great opportunities to grow stronger, to find incredible challenges to grow. And, most importantly, to render a great service to all living beings against monsters. You will also find out that the Special Quests will require you to collaborate with your fellow Champions and to lead other students. You, wittingly or not, decided to be leaders. You will have to live up to that. If someone dies because of your idiocy, you will be held responsible for it. If someone survives because of you, you will be rewarded. And Special Quests award Merits in a much larger quantity than normal ones."

"Do we have to collaborate with others?" Sabrina Margrave asks through clenched teeth.

"It depends, Princess Margrave. Would you like to stay at the Academy or would you like to go back to your family?"

"I'm sorry, Headmaster," Sabrina says. She bows her head, and she knows it is a rhetorical question.

"It's alright. Now, I'll leave, and you will have all the food and beverages in the world. Why don't you socialize with each other?"

I am about to walk away from Sabrina Margrave when the Headmaster snaps his fingers, and nameplates appear in front of each seat. The letters float for a breath, and then they settle into little brass stands.

Mine is between two of the three women among the Champions.

It reads:

Princess Iskara — Jacob Cloud — Sabrina Margrave

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