Chapter 214 (1/2)
Shal watched as his disciple dropped the diary, huffing. His mouth twisted into a grin. “Still insufficient? You must have less talent than I had thought, to fail to improve even after all of this time with access to the diary.”
His disciple gave him a look that was more exasperated than annoyed, so Shal let it slide. Besides, although he had moved himself closer to a level of Aether that he could subsist on, the problems hadn’t completely gone away. After their spar the previous day, Shal had been forced to nap for several hours to reach an equilibrium.
It was incredibly frustrating. For Shal, this was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life, the chance for vengeance on Lucretia. But he was bound, tied by his Aether weakness, unable to train. So he could only sharpen himself mentally, working on clarifying his images, focusing on strengthening his Battle Intent. He wasn’t sure of her strength, but…
It was always clear from Aemont’s attitude when her name came up that he was wary of her. And although Shal thought himself strong, stronger than he had ever revealed, that strength was partially from relying on the legacy of his father. Since that was the case, and Shal had been unable to master the 5th and 6th moves as of yet…
Shal’s mouth firmed into a fine line as he came back to the moment, with his disciple standing in front of him. As Shal’s thoughts had wandered, it seemed as though his disciple was considering something.
Unsurprisingly, the idiot blurted it out after several seconds. “Shal, there might be a way to get rid of the rest of your Aether sickness. I have a skill-”
“The problem is solved.” Shal said smoothly, folding his arms.
Now his disciple frowned, clearly wanting to fight him on this issue. What annoyed Shal into action was the fact that his disciple was right, the problem wasn’t near solved. Still, while it was true that this boy had an exceedingly… strange relationship with Aether, Shal was unwilling to follow it any further. He did not want to rely on outside influence for this.
It was already enough that his ticket to the land that Lucretia had sequestered herself depended on the foolish boy. To also be borrowing his strength in the final battle… It was enough to make Shal ill. Even the ticket would likely never had happened had Shal not felt enough respect for Aemont’s legacy to pass it onto another.
And the fact that that happened-
Shal’s frown slowly fell away. Why had it happened? He was injured in the dungeon while his mind was unfocused, before he had found direction for himself, but why had he been in the dungeon. There was a letter-
“Are you sure?” His disciple asked once more, causing Shal to lose his train of thought.
Sighing, Shal rolled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles. Then he invited his disciple upstairs. Sure, the fool had the tournament tomorrow, but some things could only be conveyed from man to man through fists. There was an honor, and brutal honesty to it that was unappreciated by many, but Shal had learned it from his father, and now he taught that same lesson to Randidly.
When a man says he is finished speaking, the only communication that is left is fists.
****
The tournament itself was very different from the preliminaries. The 76 individuals who had passed, which included Randidly and Tertet, were stretched out underneath a pole at one end of a wide arena, their Tassles hanging over them. Randidly’s still stuck out like a sore thumb, its emerald gold color clear in the gloom, but as he looked around, he saw a familiar Tassle on the far side, opposite his.
Red-violet with white, the Tassle of Dian, disciple of Haelthing the Devourer. Randidly’s hand instinctively clenched on his spear. After learning the story about Shal’s relationship with Haelthing, Randidly had more questions than answers, and none of the stories told why there was a disciple. Based upon what he had heard, towards the end, Haelthing had sent everyone away from his seat of power, except Shal’s brother.