Just as Wolf had crossed the last fifty-meter line, an elven boy appeared in front of him. The boy was even tinier than Wolf. It made sense, though. Wolf was small and too slim for his age because of his elven heritage, so a pure-blooded elf being smaller was only natural.
“To be promoted to Legacy Disciple, Personal Disciple needs to defeat Honored Master. To make the battle fair, Honored Master’s abilities will be on the level when he was a year younger than Personal Disciple is now,” the dispassionate metallic drone echoed in the hall as Wolf observed his opponent.
He was reluctant to start this fight. The boy before him held a slim sword longer than he was tall. Even though the weapon was obviously very light for its size, it put the child out of balance. Wolf kept quizzically staring as this kid, or should we say his past self, tottered on the brink of falling over. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided not to make any moves for now.
After five seconds had passed, the boy let out a high-pitched shout. He lifted the sword above his head, using both his hands. It looked like he was wielding a great-sword or something. Then the boy charged, or at least tried to.
His legs wobbled as the sword’s weight made him stagger left and right. With every step, Wolf couldn’t help but worry the boy would fall over. After all, the one charging towards him was his past self.
Fortunately, after making the fifth step, the boy's movement stabilized, meaning inertia kicked in and he was now falling forward. Lonely Eagle ran as fast as he could, otherwise he’d just fall smack down on his face.
Wolf was still staring in confusion and wonder. The kid looked like he held a heavy Zweihänder while trying to use a maneuver he’d never fully mastered. After taking two more clumsy steps, the boy swung the blade downwards.
Wolf took a small sidestep, dying from embarrassment. He didn’t attack and simply watched the sword strike the flagstone. A moment later, the boy followed his sword. He fell flat on his face because he refused to let go of the weapon, which clattered on the floor.
From the format of these encounters, Wolf could tell that his past self never expected someone as young to come and take the trial. But even so, this last challenge was truly tragic. Compared to this sad performance, the bear was a godlike adversary.
This is so embarrassing, Wolf thought. We’re roughly the same age. Why is he so bad at it?
Wolf couldn’t help thinking such thoughts.
He really, really, really didn’t want to kill this boy. This unease forced Wolf to continue watching the pathetic display. His old self would attack, fumble, and fall down over and over again, each time performing the identical set of wobbly moves.
Wolf did nothing but dodge, or rather randomly take a step to the left or to the right. His enemy more or less did the dodging for him, since the boy couldn’t change where the sword was going once he let it drop. Wolf awkwardly watched this disaster unfold from a step or two away before opening distance once more.
The pair went through this routine half a dozen times, and finally, Wolf couldn’t bear to watch anymore. When the little boy fell down for the seventh time, Wolf stabbed him in the back of the head.
It was a weird feeling. Even though it was an illusion, even though this was his past self and they looked nothing alike. It was weird to kill yourself. The fact he’d done it to put the stumbling fellow out of his misery didn’t really help.
As the illusion disappeared, the metallic voice rang out again. “What a splendid battle. What mastery of the blade. Truly befitting Honored Master’s Legacy Disciple. Legacy Disciple may enter the chamber to claim their reward.”
Wolf was stunned after hearing this description of the battle. It was now apparent that the artifact spirit really had a script to follow and very little autonomy. At best, it could perform simple tasks within the scope of its original duty, such as reading the content of a scroll.
Maybe it even learned what all of those letters said and doesn’t really know how to read? Wolf thought, consoling himself. Surely there was no way he could be inferior to a dumb artifact.
Wolf took a moment to think about everything that had happened since he’d entered this place. I need to get stronger to use proper swordplay. If several wolves attacked me, I couldn’t just stick my hand in their mouths and let them bite me every time. For now I guess I should stick with magic, but I need more spells…
After a moment of silence, he followed the artifact spirit’s instructions and entered the room to the right. This chamber was significantly smaller than the previous two. There were only five pedestals with Rings of Holding.
“Legacy Disciple may claim—” Wolf was even quicker to pick up the ring this time around. Inside he found two more potion bottles, a long-sword and a bunch of scrolls.
“Each Legacy Disciple is awarded two Greater Healing Potions, a magical long-sword forged personally by Honored Master, and scrolls with the third and fourth tiers of the techniques and arts previously gifted. There are also four scrolls with notes and useful information on artifact forging and alchemy. Also included are two talismans containing Honored Master’s Soul Severing Strike and two talismans with Honored Master’s Sunder the Mountains.
“These talismans should only be used in case of emergency,” the machine voice explained. “They can kill any opponent Legacy Disciple may face until Legacy Disciple becomes a World Power. Honored Master hopes to meet Legacy Disciple as soon as possible. For that reason, Honored Master left behind two talismans of Commune keyed to him. This is so that Legacy Disciple may contact Honored Master. Finally, Legacy Disciple can find a map with another legacy location marked on it. If Legacy Disciple can visit it before turning twelve, Legacy Disciple will find another land of legacy.”
Wolf listened closely to what the artifact spirit had to say. Everything except talismans of Commune, which naturally couldn’t contact his dead past self, sounded at least somewhat useful.
Especially the map. Wolf’s memory of that place was vague. Obviously, his past self used significantly more time and effort in his own place of legacy, so the location and details were memorable. The other land of inheritance, however, was something he took cursory note of.
I thought I had to be younger than eleven to enter that cave? Wolf thought for a moment, but didn’t really care about this discrepancy.
The important thing was that he had taken all the prizes that could be claimed in this place. He had spent almost two weeks here. It was high time for him to leave and find his dad. Archibald was probably worried about him. In fact, now that Wolf had time to think about something other than the trial, he found himself worried about his father.
“Artifact spirit sir, take care of yourself.” Wolf waved down the hallway as he was turning to leave.
“Legacy Disciple, wait. Does Legacy Disciple not wish to know what is down this hall?”
Wolf paused and thought for a moment. “No, not really.”
Artifact spirit ignored Wolf’s response, as if it had asked a rhetorical question. “Deeper down is the tomb Honored Master prepared for himself. Honored Master hoped to be buried here and prepared a lot of valuable treasures and equipment Honored Master accumulated over the course of his adventures. However, Honored Master’s wish was that this tomb not be violated.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Wolf replied offhandedly and kept walking, while ignoring the artifact spirit.
I know I died in battle and the winner probably wouldn’t be nice enough to bury me here. Back when we buried mommy, dad said that people are buried by their loved ones. I don’t think the person who killed me loved me…
It was daytime when Wolf got out of the tree. He saw that his father had camouflaged the entrance and made camp just outside the tree. Archibald slept with a light snore, his torso covered with an animal hide.
After seeing his father, Wolf decided not to wake him up. Instead, he just sat down a couple of steps away from him. Then he took out a scroll on the fundamentals of gathering and refining Internal Energy. The problem was that Wolf still had no clue how to read.
Why do I have this stupid habit of opening scrolls as soon as lay a hand on them? Wolf inwardly grumbled, but continued examining the scroll. I’ll have to ask dad to teach me how to read and write.
Despite not being able to read, Wolf came to certain conclusions as he examined the scroll. The letters in this scroll were different from runes which appeared on the tapestries in his Mind Hall. Also, he felt nothing from looking at these letters, unlike the feeling he got from arcane runes.
When preparing spells, Wolf would always change their tapestries. While playing like this, Wolf figured out what all of those arcane runes were called and what they depicted. So, unlike every other Mage in history, the first language Wolf learned to read and write was Arcana. Although his writing should probably be called drawing at this point.
Wolf tried to make more deductions using the scroll and arcana runes as reference, but he had no results. Mainly because he didn’t know what the scroll said in the first place.
Several hours passed, and the sun started setting. Archibald finally woke up and stretched his neck. After taking a moment to come to his senses, Archibald saw Wolf sitting cross-legged. The boy was messing around with several scrolls not five meters away from him.
“Wolf, you’re out,” he shouted with joy, completely disregarding the fact that he spent these past months trying to make as little noise as possible.
“How did it go, son? I see you got some sort of scroll?” the big man asked, relieved his boy returned unharmed. He’d been worrying about him for days, but refused to believe this could be a lethal sort of trial.
“Yes, but I don’t know how to read it. Can you teach me?” Wolf looked at his father imploringly.
“Sure, sure, but first tell me what happened.” Archibald felt delighted that his son wanted to learn to read and write on his own, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.
“I went down a flight of stairs and then heard a voice which sounded like scraping of knives…” Wolf described everything in detail.
Archibald was stumped with the challenges his little boy had to face. Killing wolves? Obviously, the Sword-Saint who had invited Wolf didn’t expect that the boy would travel all this way until he was at least fifteen years old. Which was reasonable, as far as Archibald was concerned. Still, this misunderstanding worked out in their favor, making the trial that much easier.
Then he heard about Magma Marrow and what happened with it... Back when he was a Court Mage, Archibald had heard of this substance. It was a rare treasure of fire attribute, found in the hearts of some volcanoes.
However, he didn’t know it had any application in Body Refining. He only knew that Artificers sought it out, and that you found it by diving into lava until reaching a great depth.
Wolf’s description of the procedure he’d gone through enraged Archibald. He didn’t know whether he should hug and console Wolf or slap him silly for being so rash. He also wanted to strangle the Sword-Saint who had made such torture a part of the trial for accepting a disciple.
Sure, Mage Academy had strict entry requirements. Some trials to stay in your class required Soul Force overdrafts, or battle with illusory opponents much like Wolf had done here. Some trials for Archmages and True-Namers could even be fatal. But these had nothing to do with those taking their first steps into the world of magic.
“... And then the artifact spirit sir said that my enemy was this Honored Master fellow. He was a scrawny little boy and couldn’t even handle his sword without falling over…”
Wolf described the shameful battle in detail.
Despite his rage, Archibald chuckled.
“... and then he said that this was a splen deed battle, whatever that means...” Wolf finished his narration and showed all the scrolls and potions and the sword he’d picked up.
When Archibald saw the weapon, his expression instantly froze. The long-sword was very slim, almost like a rapier. The blade had a layer of mithril coating, its silvered hilt styled to resemble an eagle.
“Him?” Archibald muttered as his heart clenched.
Archibald's lessons:
The clarity with which people see their Mind Hall is one of the indicators of talent a Mage has. As is the number of stairs one can see on the dais with the throne you mentioned. Most people can barely make out a single step. True-Namers of the Second Order can see two or three, while those at the Third Order can only see three or four steps.
Back when I could freely enter my Mind Palace my Mind Halls had four steps each, but I was positive I could make out the outline of the fifth step.
sleepydad88 This chapter was edited thanks to the support from June and July patrons: Auron32, Carla Measner, Connor Kogut, GenericKane, Hammy, Jarloway, Joao Paulo Cambri Fiorin, Johnny Hines, Kai, Magnuss, MrrC, Nonie, Roland Thelefty, shabbybook, Story Seeker, Thundermike00, Tom and warmoger55.
Just as Wolf had crossed the last fifty-meter line, an elven boy appeared in front of him. The boy was even tinier than Wolf. It made sense, though. Wolf was small and too slim for his age because of his elven heritage, so a pure-blooded elf being smaller was only natural.
“To be promoted to Legacy Disciple, Personal Disciple needs to defeat Honored Master. To make the battle fair, Honored Master’s abilities will be on the level when he was a year younger than Personal Disciple is now,” the dispassionate metallic drone echoed in the hall as Wolf observed his opponent.
He was reluctant to start this fight. The boy before him held a slim sword longer than he was tall. Even though the weapon was obviously very light for its size, it put the child out of balance. Wolf kept quizzically staring as this kid, or should we say his past self, tottered on the brink of falling over. After thinking about it for a moment, he decided not to make any moves for now.
After five seconds had passed, the boy let out a high-pitched shout. He lifted the sword above his head, using both his hands. It looked like he was wielding a great-sword or something. Then the boy charged, or at least tried to.
His legs wobbled as the sword’s weight made him stagger left and right. With every step, Wolf couldn’t help but worry the boy would fall over. After all, the one charging towards him was his past self.
Fortunately, after making the fifth step, the boy's movement stabilized, meaning inertia kicked in and he was now falling forward. Lonely Eagle ran as fast as he could, otherwise he’d just fall smack down on his face.
Wolf was still staring in confusion and wonder. The kid looked like he held a heavy Zweihänder while trying to use a maneuver he’d never fully mastered. After taking two more clumsy steps, the boy swung the blade downwards.
Wolf took a small sidestep, dying from embarrassment. He didn’t attack and simply watched the sword strike the flagstone. A moment later, the boy followed his sword. He fell flat on his face because he refused to let go of the weapon, which clattered on the floor.
From the format of these encounters, Wolf could tell that his past self never expected someone as young to come and take the trial. But even so, this last challenge was truly tragic. Compared to this sad performance, the bear was a godlike adversary.
This is so embarrassing, Wolf thought. We’re roughly the same age. Why is he so bad at it?
Wolf couldn’t help thinking such thoughts.
He really, really, really didn’t want to kill this boy. This unease forced Wolf to continue watching the pathetic display. His old self would attack, fumble, and fall down over and over again, each time performing the identical set of wobbly moves.
Wolf did nothing but dodge, or rather randomly take a step to the left or to the right. His enemy more or less did the dodging for him, since the boy couldn’t change where the sword was going once he let it drop. Wolf awkwardly watched this disaster unfold from a step or two away before opening distance once more.
The pair went through this routine half a dozen times, and finally, Wolf couldn’t bear to watch anymore. When the little boy fell down for the seventh time, Wolf stabbed him in the back of the head.
It was a weird feeling. Even though it was an illusion, even though this was his past self and they looked nothing alike. It was weird to kill yourself. The fact he’d done it to put the stumbling fellow out of his misery didn’t really help.
As the illusion disappeared, the metallic voice rang out again. “What a splendid battle. What mastery of the blade. Truly befitting Honored Master’s Legacy Disciple. Legacy Disciple may enter the chamber to claim their reward.”
Wolf was stunned after hearing this description of the battle. It was now apparent that the artifact spirit really had a script to follow and very little autonomy. At best, it could perform simple tasks within the scope of its original duty, such as reading the content of a scroll.
Maybe it even learned what all of those letters said and doesn’t really know how to read? Wolf thought, consoling himself. Surely there was no way he could be inferior to a dumb artifact.
Wolf took a moment to think about everything that had happened since he’d entered this place. I need to get stronger to use proper swordplay. If several wolves attacked me, I couldn’t just stick my hand in their mouths and let them bite me every time. For now I guess I should stick with magic, but I need more spells…
After a moment of silence, he followed the artifact spirit’s instructions and entered the room to the right. This chamber was significantly smaller than the previous two. There were only five pedestals with Rings of Holding.
“Legacy Disciple may claim—” Wolf was even quicker to pick up the ring this time around. Inside he found two more potion bottles, a long-sword and a bunch of scrolls.
“Each Legacy Disciple is awarded two Greater Healing Potions, a magical long-sword forged personally by Honored Master, and scrolls with the third and fourth tiers of the techniques and arts previously gifted. There are also four scrolls with notes and useful information on artifact forging and alchemy. Also included are two talismans containing Honored Master’s Soul Severing Strike and two talismans with Honored Master’s Sunder the Mountains.
“These talismans should only be used in case of emergency,” the machine voice explained. “They can kill any opponent Legacy Disciple may face until Legacy Disciple becomes a World Power. Honored Master hopes to meet Legacy Disciple as soon as possible. For that reason, Honored Master left behind two talismans of Commune keyed to him. This is so that Legacy Disciple may contact Honored Master. Finally, Legacy Disciple can find a map with another legacy location marked on it. If Legacy Disciple can visit it before turning twelve, Legacy Disciple will find another land of legacy.”
Wolf listened closely to what the artifact spirit had to say. Everything except talismans of Commune, which naturally couldn’t contact his dead past self, sounded at least somewhat useful.
Especially the map. Wolf’s memory of that place was vague. Obviously, his past self used significantly more time and effort in his own place of legacy, so the location and details were memorable. The other land of inheritance, however, was something he took cursory note of.
I thought I had to be younger than eleven to enter that cave? Wolf thought for a moment, but didn’t really care about this discrepancy.
The important thing was that he had taken all the prizes that could be claimed in this place. He had spent almost two weeks here. It was high time for him to leave and find his dad. Archibald was probably worried about him. In fact, now that Wolf had time to think about something other than the trial, he found himself worried about his father.
“Artifact spirit sir, take care of yourself.” Wolf waved down the hallway as he was turning to leave.
“Legacy Disciple, wait. Does Legacy Disciple not wish to know what is down this hall?”
Wolf paused and thought for a moment. “No, not really.”
Artifact spirit ignored Wolf’s response, as if it had asked a rhetorical question. “Deeper down is the tomb Honored Master prepared for himself. Honored Master hoped to be buried here and prepared a lot of valuable treasures and equipment Honored Master accumulated over the course of his adventures. However, Honored Master’s wish was that this tomb not be violated.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Wolf replied offhandedly and kept walking, while ignoring the artifact spirit.
I know I died in battle and the winner probably wouldn’t be nice enough to bury me here. Back when we buried mommy, dad said that people are buried by their loved ones. I don’t think the person who killed me loved me…
It was daytime when Wolf got out of the tree. He saw that his father had camouflaged the entrance and made camp just outside the tree. Archibald slept with a light snore, his torso covered with an animal hide.
After seeing his father, Wolf decided not to wake him up. Instead, he just sat down a couple of steps away from him. Then he took out a scroll on the fundamentals of gathering and refining Internal Energy. The problem was that Wolf still had no clue how to read.
Why do I have this stupid habit of opening scrolls as soon as lay a hand on them? Wolf inwardly grumbled, but continued examining the scroll. I’ll have to ask dad to teach me how to read and write.
Despite not being able to read, Wolf came to certain conclusions as he examined the scroll. The letters in this scroll were different from runes which appeared on the tapestries in his Mind Hall. Also, he felt nothing from looking at these letters, unlike the feeling he got from arcane runes.
When preparing spells, Wolf would always change their tapestries. While playing like this, Wolf figured out what all of those arcane runes were called and what they depicted. So, unlike every other Mage in history, the first language Wolf learned to read and write was Arcana. Although his writing should probably be called drawing at this point.
Wolf tried to make more deductions using the scroll and arcana runes as reference, but he had no results. Mainly because he didn’t know what the scroll said in the first place.
Several hours passed, and the sun started setting. Archibald finally woke up and stretched his neck. After taking a moment to come to his senses, Archibald saw Wolf sitting cross-legged. The boy was messing around with several scrolls not five meters away from him.
“Wolf, you’re out,” he shouted with joy, completely disregarding the fact that he spent these past months trying to make as little noise as possible.
“How did it go, son? I see you got some sort of scroll?” the big man asked, relieved his boy returned unharmed. He’d been worrying about him for days, but refused to believe this could be a lethal sort of trial.
“Yes, but I don’t know how to read it. Can you teach me?” Wolf looked at his father imploringly.
“Sure, sure, but first tell me what happened.” Archibald felt delighted that his son wanted to learn to read and write on his own, but there were more pressing matters at the moment.
“I went down a flight of stairs and then heard a voice which sounded like scraping of knives…” Wolf described everything in detail.
Archibald was stumped with the challenges his little boy had to face. Killing wolves? Obviously, the Sword-Saint who had invited Wolf didn’t expect that the boy would travel all this way until he was at least fifteen years old. Which was reasonable, as far as Archibald was concerned. Still, this misunderstanding worked out in their favor, making the trial that much easier.
Then he heard about Magma Marrow and what happened with it... Back when he was a Court Mage, Archibald had heard of this substance. It was a rare treasure of fire attribute, found in the hearts of some volcanoes.
However, he didn’t know it had any application in Body Refining. He only knew that Artificers sought it out, and that you found it by diving into lava until reaching a great depth.
Wolf’s description of the procedure he’d gone through enraged Archibald. He didn’t know whether he should hug and console Wolf or slap him silly for being so rash. He also wanted to strangle the Sword-Saint who had made such torture a part of the trial for accepting a disciple.
Sure, Mage Academy had strict entry requirements. Some trials to stay in your class required Soul Force overdrafts, or battle with illusory opponents much like Wolf had done here. Some trials for Archmages and True-Namers could even be fatal. But these had nothing to do with those taking their first steps into the world of magic.
“... And then the artifact spirit sir said that my enemy was this Honored Master fellow. He was a scrawny little boy and couldn’t even handle his sword without falling over…”
Wolf described the shameful battle in detail.
Despite his rage, Archibald chuckled.
“... and then he said that this was a splen deed battle, whatever that means...” Wolf finished his narration and showed all the scrolls and potions and the sword he’d picked up.
When Archibald saw the weapon, his expression instantly froze. The long-sword was very slim, almost like a rapier. The blade had a layer of mithril coating, its silvered hilt styled to resemble an eagle.
“Him?” Archibald muttered as his heart clenched.
Archibald's lessons:
The clarity with which people see their Mind Hall is one of the indicators of talent a Mage has. As is the number of stairs one can see on the dais with the throne you mentioned. Most people can barely make out a single step. True-Namers of the Second Order can see two or three, while those at the Third Order can only see three or four steps.
Back when I could freely enter my Mind Palace my Mind Halls had four steps each, but I was positive I could make out the outline of the fifth step.
sleepydad88 This chapter was edited thanks to the support from June and July patrons: Auron32, Carla Measner, Connor Kogut, GenericKane, Hammy, Jarloway, Joao Paulo Cambri Fiorin, Johnny Hines, Kai, Magnuss, MrrC, Nonie, Roland Thelefty, shabbybook, Story Seeker, Thundermike00, Tom and warmoger55.
