Chapter 693 (2/2)

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Aylwind Sky, head of the Spearman School, sat at his desk in the highest tower of Hastam. In front of him, in stark contrast to the warm brown of the desk, were two crisp white envelopes. Both were addressed to him and written in cold hands.

Aylwind picked up the letter from Versault first. With a thought, the image of spear suffused his finger and he ripped off the top to remove the letter within.

Ophelia has allowed her youthful exuberance to overwhelm her better judgment. We must abide by the Three Oaths that we have all taken. I urge you to contact Ophelia and remind her of her responsibilities.

With a sigh, an image of fire annihilated the letter in a second. Of course, more calls for peace. While an army of Wights sat on the doorstep of Hastam, he was to do nothing. This was the great result of the Three Oaths.

The three Oaths were rather simple. He had to swear to them when he was ordained as head of the Spearman School

The Oaths were fine for the past six or seven hundred years, Aylwind thought morosely. But with the Spearsource was lost… both Oath one and two seemed to block them from reclaiming the Spearsource.

Honestly, Aylwind deeply regretted accepting his position as head of the Spearman School. Having his hands tied like this was infuriating.

Sure, the initial novelty of utilizing solely images to act was somewhat diverting. When you relied completely on images outside of the Skill, you gained a lot of insight into how a Skill was constructed. In addition, you generally would still gain Skill Levels in Skills related to your image. It was basically what weight lifting was for athletes. The point wasn’t generally to accomplish those tasks, but it would sharpen you in beneficial ways.

One hundred years later, Aylwind did indeed feel powerful. But he couldn’t forget the feeling of crushing his rivals with the raw power of his Skills. That feeling was a nostalgic memory that occupied a lot of Aylwind’s time.

Still, he understood why that Oath was present, even if he wasn’t as clear on the others. Aylwind’s expression turned serious. There was something deeply flawed about the energy of the world. When he had ascended to his transcendent might, he had been young. But in addition, he had been wild and filled with a reckless rage. After a prolonged duel, Aylwind had defeated the prior head of the Spearman School and killed him and his entire clan.

Perhaps his reign of terror would have continued had not Ophelia and Versault arrived and subdued him. Immediately, he was locked in a dark room that was effectively a jail. Initially, Aylwind would have scoffed at the thought of jail. But it was engraved in such a way that expenditures that cost Mana or Stamina were multiplied by one thousand while regeneration was reduced to one-tenth.

To simply stand up required several minutes, and would leave one too exhausted to do anything but collapse back to the ground. While in that room, Aylwind had suffered deeply.

It was only after six months of discussions did Aylwind accept the terms of release. Because at that point, he had spent enough time without using Skills to feel that his previous actions were extremely strange. There used to be a wild rage in his heart that was suddenly gone.

Thinking back, Aylwind couldn’t understand where it had come from. And that filled him with fear.

Later, Versault and Ophelia had explained that it was the world itself that was poisoned. And the higher your Skill Levels, the more you exposed yourself to the insidious violence that the world craved. That the Spearsource craved.

Which was why that had kept it locked away for centuries.

Humming to himself, Aylwind picked up Ophelia’s letter.

Can we afford to wait any longer?

Aylwind grinned. Much more to the point, and much more aligned with what he wanted to hear.