Chapter 392

Seven(?) Greedy Ones Ascend (III)

It was strange, Anth mused inwardly. He stood at the open courtyard near the walls, surrounded by ten or so souls who were eating some crisp food. A few moments later, a young-looking man, seeming not much older than him, walked out from one of the buildings, his expression rather ugly. Just like with the others, Anth couldn’t sense an iota of Mana from him, but he chose to believe Cain’s words--that the man was a variant Shadowbender, twice-Awakened, around level 160.

If this were an Academy Duel, it would never actually come to be one. There were very, very, very few people who could close the rift that large, and neither Anth nor even Ion were among them. Rather, the few figures who could... they shone far brighter than a thousand Ions combined.

“Why me?” the young man turned toward Cain who was sitting on a wooden chair and drinking.

“If you defeat him within ten moves, you can go out tomorrow instead of Ethan,” those words seemed enough as the man’s expression twisted upside down into one of ravenous and pure joy.

“Anth, you ready?” Cain called out.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

“Standard rules--no lethal attacks, trash talk allowed, first to hit 10% health is a loser. Go nuts. No matter what, neither of you will die. Start in ten.”

Anth began the countdown, drawing out his trusted Soul Weapon--a curved, large scimitar. On the other hand, Daniel remained weaponless as the seconds counted down. The confidence was... strange. By all accounts, Anth knew he should win--rather, it shouldn’t even be a contest. But there was a reason why sweat was beginning to coalesce on his back--his instincts. He rarely felt this threatened. In fact, he hadn’t felt as such even when facing Ion of all people.

Ten seconds counted down to zero... and Daniel vanished. Anth expected as much; any variant of a Shadowbender is a stealth-focused class. They usually manipulate the surrounding terrain to create distractions for the opening backstab. It didn’t matter--the guide to fighting the stealth user was fairly straightforward--never forget your back.

A faint sound of wind burned from the front, but Anth focused even harder on his back, expecting a strike any second. Except... something strange happened--shadow ripped itself from below him, but not toward his back--rather toward his front. From within the shadow, the frame of the figure wielding two short swords appeared, striking like lightning at him.

Startled, he immediately infused Mana into the blade and swung down, creating a massive ripple that repelled the suffusing surge of Mana. Just as he expected Daniel to retreat and recalibrate his momentum, the young man blurred into a shadow and wrapped around the repelent energy, striking swiftly from the left flank. Anth defended, using the same strategy--but it wasn’t working. Rather than pushing back an agility-focused class meant for stealth strikes... he was being pushed back.

He intrinsically knew it wasn’t due to the stats--he definitely lorded over in terms of raw stats. But it was the precision of the strikes--it was as though all his weaknesses were exposed raw, and there was nothing he could do against them. Three strikes in, he had already lost his footing, and was pushed back. Realizing it was a good timing to go in for the final strike, Anth roared, kindling his Mana with Soulfire and swinging the massive sword in a full circle, kicking up the storm of dust and destruction around him. When it cleared, he saw the people looking at him strangely, and wondered whether he’d accidentally killed the young man.

“You lost,” a calm voice crept from behind, causing his soul to freeze; somehow, someway, sometime... two swords managed to clasp together from his back, clinging to his throat. One inch further... and his head would have flown.

“I--I lost,” he mumbled absentmindedly. He didn’t mind losing--he’d lost plenty of times in his life, it was the nature of being a fighter. What he did mind... is that he had absolutely no clue how he lost. Nobody had ever managed to close the gap with him while he suffused himself with Soulfire. At least no one within a few ranks of him.

“... well, that was kinda disappointing.”

“I got kinda excited when he blew up. Looked nice, at least.”

Anth lowered his head and put away his sword; the words cut deep, but he could ignore them. He’d been hearing the same things all his life. If they were ever to cut him, they would have cut him a long time ago.

“Don’t feel so bad,” the girl called Senna walked up to him and flung her arm around his shoulder. “You never really stood a chance.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” he chuckled bitterly.

“... you two fought different battles,” she said. “You tried to win a duel. He tried to kill you. Big, big difference. You haven’t noticed it, but he took a lot of damage closing the gap. If you had enough mind to just elbow with some extra force, you might have won.”

“Are you stronger than him?” he asked as she pulled away.

“... a’right, now you’re just asking for a beating.”

“So, how was it?” Cain joined the two and asked.

“Humiliating?”

“Eh? Why?”

“Because I lost without even putting up a fight? And yes, yes, I know, I was never supposed to win. But still...”

“... you have a very, very, very wide definition of what ‘humiliating’ is,” Cain said. “You lost a battle. As simple as that. Whether you lost it in a minute or an hour, does it really matter? Were it a true fight, you would have died either way. Or, well, got enslaved, apparently.”

“I guess,” the two men walked back into the dining hall and sat down. They were joined by the middle-aged woman only who kept looking Anth up and down.

“Don’t mind her,” Cain said. “She does that with all her new children.”

“C-children?”

“Uh, it’s an inside joke,” Cain quickly added. “Listen. We can protect you. We can protect that girl too, if you want. But... what’s the point?”

“What... do you mean?”

“What he means,” the woman joined. “Is that enough? Are you comfortable just standing in the back and watching others wipe the shit you stuffed out onto the street?”

“... w-what?”

“Yeah, no, seriously, what?” Cain said. “I’m with him on this one.”

“B-but--you--you always say stupid shit like that?” the woman’s cheeks flushed faintly.

“... oh my God.”

“No.”

“Oh God. Ha ha ha ha--”

“No, shut up!!” she jumped. “Boy, this ever gets out, I’ll scalp your scrotum and feed it to your grandma! And you--suck a bag of dicks!”

“Pfft, ha ha ha,” while the woman ran off, Cain burst into laughter.

“Is--is it fine?” Anth asked worriedly.

“Ha ha ha--hm, what?”

“I mean, her, she--”

“Ah, relax. That’s just who Em’ is. She blows her fuse when she’s embarrassed.”

“You... know her that well?”

“Uh, yeah? She’s my wife?”

“...”

“Look, we’re not a cult, man!” Cain defended himself. “She’s a genuine, hand-to-heart, married-before-God wife!”

“Uh, sure...”

“Haah, whatever, I’m way too tired for this,” Cain sighed. “So, have you made your decision?”

“Y-yeah. I’ll, I’ll help you guys integrate. I can personally vouch for at most three people to enroll them into the Academy, if you’d like. Any more than that, though, and--”

“Three’s enough,” Cain interrupted. “Most of us will stick back and observe.”

“... can... can you answer me just one question honestly?”

“Sure?”

“You... you won’t invade or anything, right?”

“...”

“...”

“Oh, you’re serious?” Cain chuckled. “I mean, we’re strong man, sure. But we ain’t no invading army. We mean no harm, not to anyone. We’re just a cul--I mean, a family. A big family who wants to start fresh.”

“Good,” Anth nodded, smiling. “I’m choosing to trust you.”

“Oof. Bad call,” Cain clicked his tongue. “Ask any one of those fuckers, all of them will tell you that trusting me is the worst thing you can do.”

“I really cannot figure out your relationships here,” Anth chuckled.

“Give it time,” Cain smiled, patting his shoulder. “Come on. I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

“... sleep?”

“Yeah, that thing you do when you’re tired.”

“Uh, I... I just use Mana to wave away the exhaustion,” Anth said, growing more and more confused.

“Ah. You’re one of those.”

“Those?”

“Come on,” Cain dragged him up and wrapped his arm around Anth’s shoulders, pulling him forward. “Allow me to espouse to you the beauties of sleeping. Once I’m done with you, just like the rest of my cul--I mean family, you’ll be endowed with sleep and want it every day and every night. Did you know that we have a mandatory 8 hour sleep time? Now, I know what you’re thinking--8 hours? Pff. I’m still young! I can function on 5! And ye, sure, I was a high schooler high-strung on ego too, but on 5, man, 5 hours of sleep strings you. Day after day after day... nah. Old people get it right. 8 hours and a power nap! Now, they mostly skip the power nap, but if you’d like, I can personally teach you in the massive benefits of a power nap...”