The auditorium was a large room, with three sections of seating in the right, middle and left, each section capable of hosting hundreds. All the seats, divided in levels which descended a step each row, faced a massive, curved stage that seemed to form a semi-circle.

The acoustics of the room were naturally remarkable, and designed to carry the sound from the stage all the way to the back of the hall. Maybe that was why Nero, who was far away from the stage, could easily hear the tormenting remarks of the attacker, who was on stage.

With a colourful symphony of spells aiding his every move, the attacker seemed intent on killing his target. With exceptional mastery of his spear, and flawless execution of innate ability, the Herald held him back perfectly, and even seemed to have a slight advantage.

Their fight, almost too fast for Nero to follow, seemed like a masterwork of a performance, if only it had been a play. But it was not. Instead it was a bitter fight for survival, and Nero knew that whatever advantage the Herald seemed to have was illusory.

The attacker needed to only enter his Arcanist form to overwhelm the youth and end the fight, or at least drastically shift the offs. But for whatever reason, he was not doing that. Perhaps he was toying with the Herald, or perhaps he had other motives.

Nero’s eyes gleamed as he recalled everything he knew about the name he had just heard. The current year was 997 V of the Velaryian calendar. Around 349 years ago, in the year 648 V, Adelix Invictus reached the Sage realm as a Monarch, and aided in the founding of Kolar, alongside two others.

In the year 712 V, when Kolar was in a bitter war with both its neighbours, Saint Codale and Dolziya, General Adelix Invictus launched a desperate suicide attack on Terenim, the capital of Dolziya at the time, and destroyed it. Unfortunately, despite ending the war, the good general died, becoming one of the few Sages to die in a non-curse related incident.

Clearly the attacker was not talking about the general, who was dead, so that must mean that this formidable Herald was one of his descendants. Or this was a rare coincidence where he shared the name but had no relation. It wasn’t exactly unknown for people to name their children after heroes.

While their fight continued, Nero could see how having cards at his disposal would drastically aid the Herald. After all, at the moment he was only holding off the attacker using his innate ability. The question now was, how could Nero deliver the cards? Coming close to an Arcanist was no different from committing suicide, and although nero was brave, he was not stupid. He would not needlessly condemn himself to death.

“What’s the matter, Invictus? Cat got your tongue? I’d heard you were quite the talkative kid. I’d heard you’d used that tongue quite well to antagonise many of your professors,” the attacker taunted again.

“Your attempts to demoralise me are futile,” the Herald finally replied. “I know that you did not attack the AAB just to target me – that would make you the stupidest group in the world. You’d only need to wait till tomorrow and I’d be out of here, and much easier to target. I don’t know why you know of me, but that won’t change the fact that you won’t get away with this. You’ll get caught by the police or the army, and then I can find out what your interest in me is easily.”

As soon as he finished his words, the two clashed against one another ferociously, right after which the attacker leaped back and created some distance between us. Then he laughed.

“Don’t you know why I know of you? It’s because you’re too annoying! You’re stepping on too many toes! There are people who feel their interests will be at risk if you move up the ranks in the army, so when they heard what I’d be doing today, they paid me extra to get rid of you as well. I got paid in old Valerian gold! 20 pieces!”

The man just took his time laughing, while Invictus used the time to recover. But even from a distance Nero could tell that the attackers words were unnerving him. Truth be told, Nero was agitated as well.

Although the situations were different, he could see the remarkable similarity between Invictus and his brother. Both were being targeted by someone superior for petty, personal reasons.

Kolari were supposed to look at the greater good. How could the country foster stronger soldiers if everyone with potential was culled?

Nero grit his teeth. He really wanted to help Invictus, but he had no way of delivering the case without getting detected.

He did not want to admit it, but somewhere in his heart, there was a seed of fear. Arcanists were incredibly strong, especially in actualised Arcanist form, and it was entirely unfair and unrealistic to expect a new Neophyte to put up any kind of offence against one. This fear was absolutely rational.

But it was also because of this fear that Nero could not allow himself to back down. His enemy was a much more formidable person, two entire realms above Arcanist. If Nero could not even overcome the weaker one, he would never be able to even think about challenging the greater one.

He felt angry at himself for feeling fear, so he had to act, and break himself from this curse.

Only a man’s morals, conscience, or goals should dictate his actions, not feelings of fear and intimidation. If he gave in once, just because the situation was unfair and unreasonable, he would set a precedent.

In this world nothing was fair, so anyone who expected to face a fair situation was in the wrong, not the situation itself.

Nero took out his own card case and began to peruse his selection, refreshing his memory of the cards he had and their uses. His normally steady hands trembled just a bit. Nero told himself that was the effects of adrenaline, and kept reading.

“Since you’re going to kill me anyway, mind telling me who hired you?” Invictus asked, his voice only slightly annoyed.

“Nice try, kid. You messed with matters you shouldn’t have, so now you have to pay the price!”

The fight resumed with an increased ferocity, but that only meant that Invictus would be exhausted much sooner. Nero needed to act quickly.

Since he could not deliver the card case without being detected, he needed to do something else. After reviewing his cards, Nero came up with a plan, although it was riskier than he would have liked.

Nero was about 80 metres (260 feet) away from the stage, hidden behind the chairs. He needed to creep in closer, and while he decided to continue using the Darkness innate card, he could not take the risk of activating the Muted Self card again.

The aether fluctuations from new cards being activated would definitely attract the Arcanists attention – in case it already hadn’t!

To ensure that he did not attract any attention, Nero would have to move as slowly as possible, and even leave behind his spear, although he felt incredibly reluctant to do that. But it was just not possible to carry a massive stick around and stay covert at the same time. But where he discarded the spear was also important.

Nero crept to the side of the row of seats he was hidden behind, ensuring that he stayed crouched. He was barely making any sounds, though even if he was a little louder the sounds would have been drowned out in the sounds of endless clashes.

When he reached the end of the row, he gently placed the spear on the ground, making sure it stayed in place and did not roll away due to the vibrating building.

Then, doing his best to remain in the shadows, he crept down the steps, coming ever closer to the stage. He still did not know how visible he was, enshrouded in darkness as he was, so he could only hope that the two on stage remained too occupied amongst themselves to notice an odd shadow moving through the auditorium.

When he reached 60 metres to the stage, Nero began to feel nervous. At 50, he could not tell if it was his own heartbeat that was shaking his body or the vibrations spread out due to the fight.

In his mind, he focused on his cobalt blue flames, and fed all his unnecessary emotions into it. He knew that innate abilities did not work in such a way, but soon he was left feeling nothing except cold ruthlessness.

There was a scream and a splatter of blood that travelled across the hall, some of the drops even falling on Nero. He ducked behind a chair, and saw that the Arcanist had unexpectedly been hurt!

The fighting momentarily paused as the attacker withdrew, holding onto his arms, covering a bleeding gash unsuccessfully. Opposite to him, Invictus stood tall and proud, the tip of his spear finally tasting the blood of his foe.

The exchange had occurred too quickly for Nero to see how exactly Invictus had wounded the enemy, but he could feel that the fight had reached a turning point. The attacker no longer seemed playful, as he was acting earlier, and a baleful aura emerged from his body encompassing the hall.

The closer to the fight Nero came, the more careful he had to be, but he was not close enough just yet.

Oddly enough, despite his anger, the attacker did not enter his Arcanist form, but he definitely attacked with more zeal as soon as the fight resumed. Invictus was immediately pressured, but in only a couple more exchanges, the attacker was wounded again.

Nero was seeing a pattern. The more pressure Invictus faced, the greater his strength became. He did not know if this was a result of his innate ability, or he was just able to perform better under pressure. Either way, Nero continued to approach the stage till he reached approximately 20 metres (60 feet). This was still quite a distance from the stage, but it was about as near as he could come.

He placed Invictus’ card case on the first chair in the latest row, its metallic sheen clearly distinguishable from the black, plastic chairs. Then he began to retreat. At the same time, he took out a couple of cards.

“We’ve waited so long, Invictus. We fought and we fought, but no one has come to your aid,” the attacker said sinisterly. “I’ve been holding back, just in case some reinforcements came. After all, regardless of who you pissed off, I thought someone would value your talent at least. But it seems I was wrong. You’re all alone, Invictus. You have no friends, no allies. This is what you get for stepping out of line.”

The Herald did not respond, though that was more because he did not have the room to respond under the furious onslaught. His body had already suffered numerous hits, and if he had not secretly replaced his armour for a higher grade one, and did not have the aid of his innate ability, then he would have been at the very least seriously injured.

“You lived alone as an orphan, and now you will die alone too, abandoned by your comrades,” the attacker said, his voice taking on a deeper tone, as if dictating prophecy.

Another spell landed on Invictus’ body, though this time his armour began to fail him. He coughed out blood as he quickly stepped back to avoid more attacks.

The attacker grinned as he readied his sword to continue his push, but the auditorium suddenly darkened.

He jerked to look out at the hall, as if searching for the newcomers, but saw nothing but an empty sea of black.

BOOM!

A thunderous sound echoed in the halls, coming at them from everywhere. Invictus recognised the sound. It was the sound of spears banging on the floor. It was the ceremony for new Neophytes.

BOOM!

The sound thundered, threatening to deafen them. Though Invictus did not understand what was happening, he knew one thing at least. On this battlefield, he was not as alone as he thought.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep