World Sphere - 64 - Captivating Beauty

Chapter 64: Captivating Beauty

We had hours to warm up, and I was scheduled to fight second this time which meant Pascal was bumped to third. Since the barracks sat right next to the training yard, we had front-row seats when the Harbinger-class ship descended.

It was massive with a polished hull, but clearly refurbished. There were no visible armaments. Probably an academy-owned vessel, or maybe one of the students had powerful connections. Either way, it was meant to impress and intimidate.

Our opponents disembarked in perfect formation, every one of them dressed in the same crisp white uniform, fine-trimmed in gold. They looked like they had stepped out of a recruitment poster. In contrast, our ragtag group looked like we had been scraped off a battlefield. The effect wasn’t lost on me or my academy mates. It was a power play, pure and simple, and it was working. I could see the ripple of doubt spreading through our ranks.

I let out a long sigh and muttered loud enough to be heard, “Guess they couldn’t agree on what to wear, so one guy picked for the whole lot. Hopefully, they all know the cleanliness spell, because after we are done with them, they will be filthy.”

Mia chuckled, then Pascal, and soon our whole group was snickering. It was fake confidence, maybe, but it was something. When the other students marched toward the yard, we greeted them with laughter, not silence and awe, which confused them.

I stepped beside Gareth. “End it fast. No showboating today.”

He glanced at me, slightly annoyed, so I leaned in and kept my voice low. “We have to crush their morale and sow doubt. That means you don’t give your opponent a single moment to believe they belong here.” Gareth held my gaze for a heartbeat, then gave a short nod. He understood.

We kept stretching, but it was impossible not to notice the top academy had brought some incredibly handsome and beautiful recruits. I wondered if magic could buy looks, or if the rich just got lucky with both bloodlines and glamour spells. Then I noticed the makeup. Most of them were wearing it. Seriously? I was momentarily speechless that they put on makeup to come for a fight.

Spectators from the capital island started pouring in from the Harbinger-class ship and other skyships nearby. It had to be the busiest Hen’s Hollow had ever been. They had brought a whole entourage of well-dressed, loud, and eager spectators. The crowd they brought easily outnumbered ours, and it was quickly becoming standing-room only around the yard.

Then I caught sight of Freya who had already set up a cart. She was selling meat on a stick and sending her runners scrambling to restock. I nearly laughed. She was going to make an absolute killing today. If she was smart, she’d triple the prices for visitors and they would still think the food was cheap.

Things really got interesting as we got a better look at our opponents. Gareth’s opponent was a towering, dark-skinned man about my height, but with broader shoulders and a panther’s grace. He moved through sword forms with fluid, effortless speed during his warm-up. Even I had to admit that he was impressive. I noticed Gareth watching him out of the corner of his eye as was Callem.

My own opponent was a tall woman, maybe 6’1”, with a platinum-blonde ponytail streaked with red. She wielded a staff and moved with sharp, deliberate precision. Her lower body generated real power, thanks to her narrow hips, flexible stance, and explosive torque. I caught her doing a perfect split mid-routine. When she noticed me studying her, she flashed a teasing smile. Was she trying to intimidate me?

I responded with a high kick, holding the pose just long enough before spinning into a controlled, rotating back kick. The move wasn’t particularly difficult without a target if you had the flexibility, but it got a lot of stares from the visiting crowd and cheers from the locals for the acrobatics.

Seeing me and not wanting to be outdone, Gareth followed up with a blur of backflips, kicks, and acrobatic spins. Faster, stronger, and far more graceful than what I’d done. The crowd gasped at his performance—and for good reason. Seeing someone that size move like that was equal parts inspiring and terrifying.

My opponent turned her full attention to Gareth, those ice-blue eyes never leaving him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous. Whoever she was, she moved like a warrior and looked like a perfect painting come to life.

By the time the warm-ups concluded, the crowd had swelled to around 1,500, with more locals trickling in as shops and stalls shuttered for the midday break.

Then our opponents made their next move. They removed their gold-trimmed uniforms, revealing tight-fitting gray training clothes underneath. The cut of the suits was subtle but clever: just loose enough to hide the tension in their muscles to hide attacks. A small thing, but a meaningful edge.

I glanced at Callem. The sour look on his face told me that he’d noticed it, too. One of his core teachings was reading muscle movement, which allowed you to predict attacks before they were launched. That advantage had just been blunted. And the fight hadn’t even started yet.

Callem, being the head of the host academy, got the inter-academy tournament going. He disregarded his irritation at the uniforms of our opponents and spoke loud enough for all to hear. “Thank you all for attending a display of the great youths of Skyholme as they forge their skills in the first year of the academy. I thank our guests for being gracious enough to come to our humble school and compete against our students. The first duel….” Callem continued and listed off all the pairings. The visiting school only brought their top students, enough to match against us evenly.

Gareth was soon in the center with his opponent. The match started, and neither moved for seconds. Then Gareth attacked two-handed and switched to one-handed a few breaths later. His opponent parried the first three strikes but missed Gareth’s punch when he went one-handed. The solid connection could be felt in the crowd by the thud and flow of blood from the boy’s nose.

Gareth didn’t give him time to recover. Gareth quickly went to two hands, chopping at his legs. The boy tried to retreat, but only deflected Gareth’s sword into his shins. Bone and blood were revealed as he toppled with a grunt. The match was called in Gareth’s favor, and stunned the visitors in the crowd.

My opponent was extremely concerned and moved to the fallen boy. I guessed by her care that they were a couple. She was definitely too attractive not to have a suitor. It took a few moments for the healer to stabilize the boy and help him out of the arena. Gareth stood by me, “Was that fast enough, Stormy?”

“Yeah, maybe a little too bloody, though,” I said as I saw malice forming in my opponent’s eyes.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gareth said. “He had the ability to read my mind for my next move. I had to adlib the entire match and not think at all…just letting my body act.”

My mouth didn’t work for a second, then I asked, “How did you know?”

“Instinct. It was one of the tier 2 abilities Callem had been training me to counter. I knew it by how he reacted to my first sequence,” Gareth replied confidently. I was stunned as that was incredible.

I was being called forward. The pretty blue eyes of my opponent had turned icy cold. I approached and stood across from her, and she rasped angrily. “Your boy toy embarrassed my brother. Now I have to embarrass you.”

Gareth got the pretty girl angry at me? I said the first thing that came to my head, “So he was just your brother? Does that mean you are single?”  Her eyes flashed in confusion before going cold again, and she launched a flurry of attacks before Callem even said we could begin.

She was good as she pressed me and had me on my toes. I tried to tease her a little, knowing anger can cause your opponent to make mistakes. “You know your eyes are much more beautiful when you are not furious.” My comment spurred her on, and I finally retaliated with some offense of my own. I nearly stumbled as she didn’t block a blow to her knee. I didn’t want to hurt the pretty young woman for some reason. I tried to pull my strike, and thankfully, I did. As I connected with her knee, my knee buckled instead. Her face turned smug. I was forced to roll away from her counterattack and my ligaments where damaged.

The pretty woman had some kind of ability that redirected wounds back to the attacker. Some sort of curse or mirrored damage enchantment—great. Thankfully, the self-inflicted injury was minor, and I healed it quickly.

It was time for a new strategy. I shifted my focus to controlled exchanges and minor strikes only. No disabling strikes. Her smug expression faltered as my limp disappeared in seconds. She backed off, breathing hard, sweat glistening on her brow. I was smeared with dirt and sweat from my earlier roll—but I cast a quick cleanliness spell, the grime disappearing and creating a strong vanilla scent around my person. I gave her a grin.

“Your makeup’s running,” I said, flashing a cheeky smile. “Honestly? I think you’re more beautiful without it.”

That icy stare softened for just a heartbeat. I figured if I couldn’t overpower her directly, I’d have to bait her into wearing herself out. Make her mad. Let her exhaust herself. Worst case, I’d have to get close and wrestle her into a submission hold, which I wasn’t thrilled about since she probably had other tricks.

She took a steadying breath. “Sorry, Storme. I’m ending this now.” Wait. Storme? How the hell did she know my name? I’d missed hers when the match was announced.

“Wait!” I called out, throwing a hand up. She hesitated, just enough. “How about a bet? If I win, you have to take me out on a date. If you win…” I paused for effect, “…I take you out on a date.”

She bared her teeth, not amused. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” It was worth a shot and had the intended effect of getting her angry again.

She came at me with renewed fury, and then—crack. A strong blow hit my shoulder from nowhere. I stumbled back, eyes searching for her weapon, but it hadn’t touched me—it was a phantom strike.

I scrambled, retreating across the ring as she pursued. Two more invisible solid hits landed, but were not crippling. Each time, she winced a little more, sweat now pouring down her temples. I’d seen that look before. Aether exhaustion.

Her breathing was ragged, her footwork a little sloppier. The phantom strikes had to be some kind of aether construct—maybe telekinetic punches? Combined with her reflected damage ability, she was likely burning through her reserves fast. That realization pulled a slow grin across my face.

She froze, one step into her next move, trying to decode the sudden shift in my expression. I tapped my staff, casting an alarm spell, designed to flash upon contact with another weapon. Harmless, but blinding to the unsuspecting.

“I fear our little dance must end, princess,” I said with a mock bow. “My companions are growing impatient for their turn. But if you ever wish for a rematch, know that I am… amenable.”

Maybe it was just adrenaline, but for a moment, her beauty hit me again. Not just her features, but the way she fought—focused, fierce, commanding. Either she had some kind of charm ability, or I was genuinely a little enchanted.

I moved in, and she blocked my attack, setting off the flash from the alarm spell. She wasn’t prepared and was blinded while I opened my eyes to see her spinning a defense with her staff and retreating. It was too slow, and I closed. The first two strikes were to her ribs and sternum. The third strike was a knee strike, and I grimaced as her transfer attack ability activated. I gambled with a series of four strikes to her thighs and had no reprisals, her aether likely expended. I risked flashing the butt of my staff to her forehead and connected, knocking her out cold.

When she collapsed, I felt guilty. Maybe some lingering effect of her charm ability. I was barely aware as I was declared the winner and walked back to my side of the arena. I noticed her brother giving me a death glare as he joined the healers to help his sister. I sat with Gareth and asked, “So I missed the names of our opponents. What was her name?”

Gareth’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t even know her name? You were flirting with her the entire time you were fighting!” I didn’t exactly consider what I was doing was flirting.

Gareth looked at her as she was helped to sit up. “Tessa. Tessa Torrent. I don’t know how she relates to the Torrent seat on the Triumvirate, but I am guessing she and her half-brother are being groomed for one of the 23 succession seats. Both seem to have exceptional abilities.”

“Yeah, she had at least three. The charm one was the most troubling,” I grumbled.

Gareth chuckled, “Callem said Tessa had a captivating aura ability. It just draws attention to her; it doesn’t charm or affect the mind in any way. Not that she needed it with how she looks.” I was confused by that, because I thought she had been influencing me.

Pascal’s fight had started, and I half watched the fight, and half watched Tessa as she recovered. She was eyeing me as well, without being too obvious. I broke eye contact and scanned the crowd for my family and groaned. Isla was in the stands, seated with Loriel and Bylura. And Leda and Cilia were with them. Maybe they had purchased their skyship.

My parents were smiling and clapping, but Aelyn, seated next to them, gave me a dark glare. I wasn’t sure what I had done to deserve it. Loriel waved at me and left with her entourage before Pascal’s fight finished. In front of all these people from the capital, she was making it clear she had attended to watch me fight.

I returned my focus to the fight, and Pascal was losing, losing badly. A few exchanges later and it was over with Pascal’s getting healers to fix his smashed hand and shattered elbow. Mia redeemed us in the fourth match, winning a drawn-out combat. We lost the next three duels from there, but all were close contests.

The main reason was that our opponents had abilities that gave them an advantage. Our weapon skills were equal to theirs. We won the next seven contests, with Mera and Fera among the winners. By this point, the other academy had run out of students with useful combat abilities. The remaining contests were evenly split, and we barely won the day, winning two more matches than them.

When Callem announced the final results, the locals cheered their hometown heroes as the opposing students donned their white uniforms and made their way to the ship they had arrived on.

I was pushing my way through the crowd toward the barracks when someone tapped my shoulder. I figured it was just another townsfolk stopping to offer congratulations, but when I turned, it was her—Tessa. The tall, battle-worn, silver-haired woman stood before me, her darker half-brother looming just behind her like a personal bodyguard.

Even with her hair tousled and her face streaked with sweat and dirt, she radiated a strong presence. There was something raw and magnetic about her I couldn’t help being drawn to. I quickly cycled through my focus exercises to avoid staring at her like a hopeless fool. It helped—a little.

Her brother looked like he was one breath away from dragging her back to their skyship. “If you're ever in the capital,” Tessa said, her voice softer than it had been in the arena, “find me. I’ll will honor the bet.” Then she walked past without waiting for a response. Her brother followed, glaring daggers. Internally I was a mess of hope and disbelief.

Back in my room, I cleaned up and waited for noon. The others had gone into town to celebrate, but I was waiting for my dungeon team’s scheduled readings. They should arrive on the skyship due just after midday. I was able to lie in bed, watching the skyship pad while reviewing my new spell. When a familiar blue-green transport landed that only makes runs around our small town, I stepped out to meet them.

I found Callem, Wynna, Ennet, and Aelyn already chatting with Sammie, Remy, and Lana near the docking pad. I approached with a smile. Aelyn still appeared angry with me, but I assumed whatever her problem was, I could find out later.

I greeted my potential delve team. “Welcome! So, where are we headed to get everything done?”

Wynna answered for the group. “Ennet’s house. We’ll do the readings there, and then Callem’s taking everyone to the farm for the week.” The farm? My thoughts snagged on that. I hadn’t signed off on Lana joining yet. Had Callem told her otherwise?

Still, I played along. “Sounds great. I’ll cook while everyone’s getting their reading done.” I fell into step beside Callem as we walked.

“I’m going to work with Sammie in the mornings and evenings,” Callem said with an enthusiastic tone. “Elijah and Elora will handle your night sessions at Twin Rocks.” Just like that, my good mood soured.

Elijah was a beast with axes—and not just one. He switched mid-combat between a massive two-hander and dual-wielding handaxes with recklessness. I had taken more than a few ‘enthusiastic’ hits during training sessions with him.

At Ennet’s place, I started with spaghetti and meatballs. It would be two hours for the sauce to properly fuse, and then the fresh egg pasta was just a quick boil. The nervous group moved in the large sitting room, and just as I laid out my ingredients. A knock came at the door. Callem moved to open it.

Talia stood in the doorway. Wynna began introducing her to everyone. I figured Selina must have mentioned the team was meeting in Hen’s Hollow and I had not thought to invite her so she did.

“Is Talia going to the farm too?” I called from the kitchen.

Callem’s yellow eyes gleamed with mischief. “Just for tonight’s session. She still has classes in the capital.” He barked over the chatter. I nodded. I appreciated how much effort Callem was putting into preparing the team, but a little warning would have been nice.

As I worked the meatball mixture—ground beef, eggs, breadcrumbs, and spices—I heard Wynna speaking clearly for everyone: “Readings are private affairs. Only you will see your results. Afterward, you can speak with Storme if you choose since he will be your employer.”

Sammie raised a valid question. “But if he’s paying for it, why doesn’t he get to see everything?”

Wynna answered smoothly. “Storme knows readings are personal. He trusts you to share what’s necessary. Now, who’s first? Let’s head into the sunroom.”

Sammie volunteered to go first. A few minutes later, she stepped into the kitchen, walked up to me, and wordlessly placed her reading sheet on the counter.

“Trust, right?” the large blonde woman said with a smirk. I nodded, then read the sheet. Over by the arch, Callem was practically leaning through, trying to catch a glimpse.

“Don’t tell Callem what’s on your sheet,” I said, raising my voice. “Only confirm if he guesses correctly.” Sammie gave an emphatic nod, and Callem eyed me dangerously. She looked back at Callem and shrugged helplessly. I already liked this woman.

I scanned the sheet:

Abilities
Focused Strike – Tier 1
Power of One – Tier 1
Wyvern’s Heart – Tier 2
Harmonize with Wood – Tier 1

Traits
Adaptive – Tier 1
Strong Bones – Tier 1

Affinities
Axes – Tier 1

I kept my expression neutral just to annoy Callem, then casually dropped the paper into the magical stove's heating plate, where it burst into flames.

Having three Tier 1 abilities were rare enough. A fourth, tier 2 in addition? Almost unheard of outside the capital island from what I had read. Sammie was something special as Callem had predicated.

Focused Strike doubled the power of a single attack with minimal aether and a short cooldown. Great for someone without an awakened core. Power of One boosted all physical stats when fighting solo—less useful in a group, but still solid.

Harmonize with Wood was more of a utility spell—she could shape small wooden objects with her mind. Not battlefield material, but useful. Wyvern’s Heart was one I only vaguely remembered. A Tier 2 stamina/endurance trait, if I recalled correctly. Definitely the kind of thing you wanted in a frontliner. Add in Strong Bones and Axes Affinity, and yeah, Sammie was destined to bear the brunt of attacks in a team.

“Sammie, everything looks great,” I said. “Remember—no telling Callem unless he guesses right.” She gave a wide, proud grin. “Callem’s going to turn you into a monster on the front lines,” I added. “You’ve got all the right tools. I’m glad you’re with us.”

She beamed, then sat nearby at the kitchen table, eyeing the meatballs like they were a sacred treasure. I grinned to myself as I stirred the sauce. I couldn’t wait to learn what secrets Remy and Lana had.

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