Chapter 36 - Showing Off

“So we’re going to be fighting a whole tribe?” Omi asked for the fifth time today. “By ourselves?”

Annie rolled her eyes. “If you don’t count the few hundred adventurers that are going to be joining us, then yes. All on our lonesome.”

Kai trilled, excitedly flapping his wings.

Rowan snorted, scratching his beak. “Yeah, yeah, stop showing off.”

He tilted his head up, somehow managing to look smug.

Level: 13

Body: Iron IV [13 Levels]

Core: N/A

His familiar was now once again a higher level than him, and he wasn’t letting Rowan forget it. The unending abyss Kai called his stomach had finally digested his feast at the Plateau, advancing him to Iron IV.

He was progressing rapidly, and another outing like that could put him on the edge of Silver

They continued their walk to the Guild Hall, all of them outfitted in their new gear.

Even Rowan had pulled out the Minor Staff of Wind he’d gotten from the shaman. The gnarled wood tapping against the cobbled streets with each step.

Nemir’s armor had already lost its shine, tested against spars with each of them. His sword hung over his back, and he looked like a force to be reckoned with. A wall of muscle and steel.

The sun hung low in the sky, draping the city in shadows. With the shops closing, lanterns were already being lit, illuminating the streets in an inviting glow.

Their rogue casually slipped in and out of the shadows, his black leather armor making him almost invisible. Silvia, on the other hand, was copying Kai. Her back was straight and head held high, the Sunfire Bow slung over her shoulders.

It was at moments like this that Rowan appreciated the city he’d arrived at.

Litwick was a small settlement, with barely ten thousand citizens within its walls. It was an unimportant city in the Verdant Vale, a region the Kingdom of Vandral scarcely governed. It didn’t even have a Lord, but a Mayor. Meaning that if trouble did come knocking, help wasn’t likely to arrive.

They were on their own, and the goblin tribe wasn’t a threat they could take lightly.

There were hundreds of hobgoblins, all of them monsters with Aura’s. The city only had a few dozen Silver-rank’s, meaning they were outnumbered at least four to one. And that wasn’t even taking into account all the regular goblins.

Litwick had at least a thousand adventurers, with more than half of those being at Iron I or above. But a tribe was called that for a reason.

If they all managed to arrive, there could be thousands of them roaming the region. Goblins weren’t all that dangerous by themselves, but in a big enough number, everything becomes a threat.

That was why the Guildmistress was pushing for them to attack.

Right now, they were still gathering. The strongest members of the tribe had already arrived, and all waiting would do was bolster their numbers.

It was an infestation, and they needed to cut it out.

Rowan took a deep breath, activating [Iron Will] to settle his thoughts.

That’s still a week away, and thinking about it isn’t what I should be doing right now. I’m fighting Killian in an hour. I need to focus on that.

Just like that, his mind shifted, the looming threat pushed to the back.

Rowan couldn’t help but marvel at how useful the skill was. It was helping him in every aspect of his life, from casting to sleeping.

After I learn a few Wind spells, maybe pushing for Bronze III is the way to go.

Muscle Strengthening was apparently a vastly more enjoyable experience than Skin Toughening. Instead of being beaten for hours on end, all he’d have to do was lift weights. A lot of them, in ever increasing numbers. But still, not all that bad a time.

But that wouldn’t happen till after the battle, since the week he had would be spent mastering his new affinity.

Rowan had a list of Wind spells he wanted to get too, and seven days wasn’t a whole lot of time.

He’d started learning [Feather Fall] yesterday, but it was a slow process. Much slower than Rowan first expected in fact.

[Gust] had come to him naturally, but that was just a Whisper-level spell. And mastering a Murmur was a definite jump in complexity. 

Just learning the circuit had taken him a few hours, and checking to see if he’d actually memorized it another few on top of that.

Mastering the four he’d picked out probably wasn’t going to be possible, but Rowan was at least going to try for three.

He had a way of quickly replenishing his mana. The combination of drinking mana potions and using [Iron Will] to speed up the process meant he could cast a tremendous amount. It was still slower than a vent, but Rowan didn’t have those for Wind mana, so he had to settle for waiting the half hour it took.

Still, Rowan thought he could manage it.

Magic had come easily to him, as it did to every member of his family. 

There was a connection that was hard to put into words. Like a song only they could hear. Rowan had never understood what his brothers and sisters were talking about when they described it, but after Awakening, it was impossible to ignore.

Mastering his second affinity would require time and effort, but Rowan would master it. The only question was when.

And it wouldn’t stop there.

However, before he could think about that, there was a Silver-rank he needed to beat.

They entered the seemingly empty Hall, but the murmur of activity coming from the yard was impossible to ignore.

Rowan frowned, walking up to the wide open doors. His eyes widened at what he saw, and he turned to look at Annie. “Why are there so many people?”

The yard was filled to the brim, the stands full of excited looking adventurers. Some of which Rowan knew, and more than he didn’t.

There was a group of more than a dozen adventurers sitting next to Quinea, casually chatting amongst themselves. Rowan scanned them, realizing what was going on.

That’s most of the Silver-ranks in Litwick, he thought. The Guildmistress is probably using the duel as a way to gather them all. If I had to guess, she didn’t really feel like spending a day chasing them all down and repeating the same conversation.

Annie arched an eyebrow. “What? Did you expect the fight to happen behind closed doors?” she pushed him into the yard. “It’s a duel between a mage and one of the stronger Silver-ranks in the city. Of course there’s going to be a crowd.”

A cheer went up as Rowan entered, all the people he’d spent the night plying with drink and food seemingly on his side. He waved, but his focus was on the Silver-ranks next to Quinea.

Besides a few quick glances, none of them reacted to his entrance. Which was to be expected. He’d never met any of them, and if they were going to be on anyone’s side, it would be Killian’s.

His opponent stood in the middle of the yard, his spear thrust into the hard earth point first, leaning against it. Misk was standing next to him, whispering something into the Silver-rank’s ear, but Killian didn’t seem all that interested.

He waved him off, looking at Rowan with a relaxed smile. “Finally!” he called out. “Had me worried you wouldn’t show.”

Nemir clasped his shoulder. “Don’t lose.”

The rest of the team echoed that sentiment, and with that, they moved to the side of the yard, leaving only Rowan and Killian in the center.

Wasn’t planning on it, he thought, walking up to his opponent.

His team’s new gear certainly didn’t go unnoticed, with more than a few curious glances thrown their way. 

“Fancy,” Killian nodded appreciatively, pulling out his spear and resting it against his shoulder.

They eyed each other for a moment before he spoke again. “You can still back out,” he said casually, a smile tugging at his lips. “We both know five-hundred gold isn’t going to hurt you all that much, and if your Soul is still injured from advancing, straining it isn’t a smart thing to do. Especially with the expedition coming up.”

“Awfully considerate of you,” Rowan replied. “But I think I’ll be fine.”

Killian nodded, seemingly not bothered by his answer. “I figured as much.”

His gaze flickered to the ring on Rowan’s finger, a knowing look in his eyes. “So, you’re not trying to hide it anymore?” he asked, gesturing toward where the Crimson Grove stood, looking resplendent in their new gear. “That’s bold.”

“No point,” Rowan shrugged. “You already know about it, and your underlings do too. So it isn’t much of a secret. I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before word gets around. Might as well get ahead of it.”

“Yeah, that was my mistake,” Killian sighed. “Had a bit too much to drink, and my tongue got away from me. Should have really kept that little tidbit to myself.”

Rowan looked at him with surprise, feeling slightly confused with the direction this conversation was heading in. As much as he didn’t like the man standing opposite him, it wasn’t like Rowan hated him. The only thing he tried to do was extort them for gold, and in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t all that bad.

“What, nabbing it wasn’t the plan?”

Killian snorted. “I’m not an idiot. Stealing a ring from a mage with unknown origins is a good way to lose your head. And I rather like mine where it is. Connected to my neck.”

Rowan arched an eyebrow. “Gold doesn’t factor into that equation?”

“Please,” Killian rolled his eyes. “Gold is different. If I thought you didn’t have it, I wouldn’t have pressed for it. But you did kind of force my hand,” he gestured at the assembled adventurers, waiting for their duel to begin. “That stunt you pulled in the Hall made it so I couldn’t just walk away without taking a hit to my reputation. Then that idiot got his ass handed to him, and here we are.”

Rowan chuckled. “So what, this is just an unfortunate misunderstanding?”

“Sure, you could call it that,” Killian shrugged. “But you really should think about withdrawing,” he couldn’t resist but add. “Think of it like paying five hundred gold for a Soul soothing potion. If you ask me, that’s a bargain.”

Rowan looked at him for a moment before a laugh bubbled up in his throat.

It might be [Iron Will], but I’m starting to feel less excited about embarrassing him.

He was right. Rowan wouldn’t feel the loss of five hundred gold. He wouldn’t even feel a thousand times that.

Quinea was awfully casual about the whole thing. And from what she said, this isn’t the first time Killian’s done stuff like this, he thought. But it probably doesn't escalate like this most of the time.

After Misk and his group tried to ambush them, Rowan made sure that the story got around. Killian had been out of the city when that happened, so he had no way of turning the narrative around, but this was what it led to.

And Rowan found that he was fine with that.

Settling a dispute with a fight wasn’t his favorite practice, but right now, it didn’t seem all that bad.

I kind of want to fight him for real, Rowan’s brows furrowed. If he really thinks I’m injured and can’t cast, it’s not going to be a long duel.

Coming to a decision, Rowan cast a [Firebolt].

An orb of flame appeared in the palm of his hand, shining a fierce red.

It had taken him less than a second to manifest the spell. Almost reflexive.

 His mana flowed freely through his channels, like a river after a drought. The injury he’d suffered on the Plateau was entirely healed. And Rowan had never felt stronger.

He let it dissipate.

After his advancement, his mana pool had grown tremendously, and the level he got from working on his body certainly helped too.

A single [Firebolt] wasn’t enough to make a large dent, with the potion he’d drunk earlier and [Iron Will] already working on refilling what it had cost.

Meditating had made that a straining activity, but with his new skill, Rowan made use of his resilient soul.

Killian’s eyes widened, a look of genuine surprise flashing across his face. “What?” he muttered, glancing back up at him. “But it’s been less than ten days since you advanced. How are you okay?”

Rowan cracked the finger with his ring on it. “Who knows,” he smiled.

The Vault was still a secret, but the fact he had access to a storage ring wasn’t. He hadn’t exactly been pretending to not have gold, so he may as well play into it. Not to mention it would also hopefully draw attention away from the recovery itself.

Killian hadn’t lied when he said that five hundred gold was a bargain for a Soul soothing potion. In Litwick, the only one who probably had them was the mage advisor, and he likely wasn’t selling.

Killian shook off his surprise, snorting a laugh. “Well, alright then.”

He took a step back, still looking confident that he could win.

Quinea stood up, loudly clapping her hands. “Do you want something to drink? Maybe a hearty stew?”

“Fight already!” an adventurer called out, quickly followed by another.

Rowan nodded to his opponent and made his way to the other side of the yard, ready to show what a real mage could do.

The expedition would be large, and Rowan wanted him and his team to have their pick of assignments. And the best way to do that was to show off.

He wanted the Guildmistress, and by extension the rest of the people in this room to know what he was capable of. So when the time came to pick who they would be fighting, they had a say in the matter.

Rowan looked at Killian standing opposite him.

They were a good enough distance away from each other, but he was fighting a high Silver-rank with an Aura of Haste. He would be fast, and Rowan needed to make the first few casts count.

Quinea stood up, her voice booming out across the yard. “Begin!”

And so they did.