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Tales of the First World

The story follows the journey of a young man in a world thousands of years after a great calamity that left only 15% of the global population as survivors. In order to curve extinction, the survivors became Guardians: beings that use Soul Arms and Magic as tools to fight the Nycerii and Darkpawn that almost brought about their destruction. Follow his story as he meets new friends, faces incredible dangers, uncovers hidden truths and ultimately discovers the source of all that began this strife.

AllenWisse · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
57 Chs

Shattered and Bloodied Steel

Shynerai raced cautiously around the embedded stance of the Student General, doggedly tracking his movements, never once losing his target. Unable to seemingly arouse a reaction, let alone any sign of a guard.

Shynerai tried to surprise him…upheaving the earth as he launched forward...for a moment, his presence seemed to fade out...blinked away and vanished. The space in front of Creivolt cratered with a blaring shockwave sending a rustling dust cloud into him.

"Wh–what just happened?" He questioned himself, drawing his hands from his coat, with his eyes moving across the evanescent dust cloud.

"I hit him... but something, there was something there." Shynerai thought to himself with his fist now meeting no resistance, the cloud drifting to reveal him completely halted, mere inches from his opponent.

Aware of his confusion, Creivolt stepped back into a focused stance, though this time he withdrew his arms from his jacket, standing with crossed arms and a more attentive gaze on his opponent. Shynerai managed to shake his fist loose from the invisible restraints before he faced his distanced opponent.

The two watched each other for a moment, as Shynerai's hair swept forward, his white veil seeming not to faze him while the snowy bangs danced across his sight. 

As he let slip a breath in that brief moment, he felt a cold shiver run down the back of his neck... the reaction being so brief and so acute—white brilliant flames engulf him with golden crackling thunder erupting, calling forth his Beowulf amour before he threw himself to the side. 

He looked up in a bit of daze, having no idea what threw his body into a frenzy. But before he could register his action. Once more, noting that the same sensation keeps spiking when he gets close to Creivolt, but this was its most violent response.

Picking himself up from his knees, his eyes peered through the white veil of flames and lightning with his sight cutting past any distractions, he witnessed something…so ominous that his thoughts couldn't stop echoing a resounding 'ringing of confusion', with his mind trying it's best to quantify what exactly he was looking at.

The sight of the scarred earth, bearing a deep trench that was cut into it, but how when Creivolt hadn't used his hands since the start of the fight. What kind of blade could cleave the earth like that?

He tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but without sparing him any more of a moment, Creivolt sent Shynerai hurtling into the side of the arena with a spinning kick.

The attack was brought on with such little notice of intent that by the time he had realized the Student General closed the gap between them in what felt like a few moments, Creivolt was able to land his attack. The force of the impact, sent dust and debris into the air, pinning him against the crushed stone of the wall.

As the young Daumier was entombed within the rubble, Creivolt approached with steeled resolve as he picked up his pace towards the stone mound, hoping to end the battle …unbeknownst to him, in his acceleration towards Shynerai, a bright flash of thunder and golden light ejected from the crumbling remnants of stone.

The silvery bolt encased in golden lighting burst out and launched itself towards Creivolt, who couldn't bring himself to halt in time when the bolt of lightning was close enough to meet eyes with him.

Instinctively, Creivolt struck down at it without a moment of hesitation, his arm gestured swiftly downwards atop the bolt. Shynerai clad in silvery steel was stopped in his tracks, sending a wave of energy rippling through the arena floor and upheaving the earth itself, erupting into a violent plume that rocked the stands as they loosened slightly.

The walls of the Arena cracked under the sudden forces and rubble rained down, the Student General's sudden blow, left his heart beating…with the sensation of each pulse filling his eardrums he waited vehemently for the dust to settle, for his opponent to finally be put down….but that wouldn't happen.

Shynerai refused to fall.

Before Creivolt, he held his guard, brandishing gauntlets wrought with silver and white flames that burned away most of the bloody spray coming from his troublesome wound.

Throwing Shynerai's guard into a clumsy stance as he tried to get up, still he stood, his guard defiant against Creivolt's attack…that same ghostly blade?

He drew forth a deep breath, stifling through the taste of blood in his mouth and the burning heat in his dry throat, with grit teeth, Shynerai steadied himself as he spoke in response to Creivolt's troubled expression:

"…I can't see what you're doing…but I'm starting to get it. So, I won't try and see it, I'll start feeling it"

"Ridiculous! If we continue with this pointless exercise, I cannot ensure that you will survive. Submit, it's over." Creivolt assured Shynerai as he regained his composure.

Creivolt's statement rang loudly above the screaming tones of discord of his mind. But as he found himself brought to his knees once more, grasping his searing and crimson arms, holding back each curse that could give rise to his agony, he held firmly to his desire.

"I refuse. This only ends once I have one, so until I am left with not a single drop of blood in my body, I will defy anyone that has made it their goal to insult mine"

The Student General's visage shifted and bore a scowl at the sight before him, unsure of how to proceed and completely uninterested in striking an opponent that's willing to concede. He lowered his gestured arm that loomed over Shynerai.

Malleus managed to catch the silhouettes for the two combatants through the clearing dust, so he moved towards them with the intent of announcing the victory of the figure standing over their kneeling quarry—

Amid Creivolt demonstration of conceit, Shynerai remained staunched despite being on his knees, so much so, that upon noticing the unflinching expression of the boy's face, he took a step back all the while getting an unsettling feeling as he stared intently.

"There!" The young Daumier sprang to life and with a single motion, he gripped the earth, settling his feet and burying them as he turned up the soil, and once again thrust himself forward.

A violent gust erupted between them with golden streaks fluttering between the clouds of dust in the instance. With each step, he tore through the space between in a blind sprint pushing faster and further towards the student general. 

In his rush, more of the silver steel bonded with his body with a finishing of a silvery band of cloth wrapped around his eyes.

"FAE's breath!" Malleus' choice in caustic cussing was stifled by the mouth full of dust before clutching his glasses in haste to prevent them from imitating his uniform billowing as it met the blast that sprouted from the two ahead of him.

Shynerai's sudden acceleration blurred his sight before having it settle in a kind of way that made direction difficult to discern, much to his dismay, though Creivolt would soon share in this.

Barely managing to catch a glance of the streaking 'lightning bolt', Shynerai's appeared, face to face with Creivolt's grim expression, though what he could see in Shynerai's expression with the light of his emerald eyes was not malice.

Though quick enough, his curious gaze consumed by the sight of a fearsome beast letting loose an unrelenting flurry of charged strikes, the speed of which left the appearance of incoming attack from every direction flooding his peripheral.

The force of the clash sent out a barrage of searing gusts of wind and dust, like a malevolent cloud, the golden arcs of lightning surge throughout the arena alongside the intense wind flaring up whipping a storm into life.

As the earth around the two grew terribly scorched, or at least what remained of it, Malleus witnessed the chaos of blasted earth and torrential winds and for fear of how far things would go, he was quick to act.

Getting as close as he could to the violent storm, Malleus, despite having caught a mouth full of dusty and charred air, spoke intently through the desert-like sensation. 

In a low but coherent voice, he strung together chant after chant. The spell that was spun from his words emanated a warm orange hue that glowed softly from clasped palms before…in a brilliant display, growing to fill the interior of the Arena.

Casting said spell had repelled him outside the confines of the shimmering amber sphere, being reduced to standing on the literal sidelines, Malleus could do nothing more but await the eventual calm–

From the stands of the Arena, not much could be seen after the storm had begun to die down, within the amber sphere the vast torrents of debris crashed against it before piling up near the edges. Seeing the winds from within coming to an eventual halt, Malleus rose to his feet, trying to piece together what had happened to him.

With the last of the wind now having fallen still, all that remained was the sparks of lightning shooting outwards, accompanied by the occasional wisps of ash rising to the top of the sphere.

Once again…Shynerai was trapped in the amorphous, intangible bonds, though something changed…something was different.

Managing to loosen his fist free, Shynerai had confirmed his suspicions. Standing in front of him, he saw the burning cloth of Creivolt's coat fall in charred tatters to the ground, revealing his lacerated palm that was raised in a shaky guard.

Shynerai tried to keep his gaze on him, hoping to glimpse a look of his face but he felt his legs give way, he instead stumbled away from motionless Creivolt before falling over into the dirt. Trying desperately to prop himself up, he shuffled his legs with what strength he had left in an attempt to stand.

"What is this, a joke?" Creivolt spat out at the sight of his blood-drenched arm. Tearing the remainder of the tattered jacket away, while the last of his blood dripped off, his wounds began to slowly heal.

"About time—Now, I've underestimated you, but I am always one to learn from my errors." Creivolt's tame expression had returned, now bearing some reverence for his opponent.

He shifted his posture with his stance that had him facing away from Shynerai, he took up a more closed guard with his bloodied arm stretched outwards as though he was calling to something.

Shynerai managed to get onto one knee by the time Creivolt had steadied himself, drawing one heavy breath after another as the last of his Beowulf faded away with each fiery wisp.

"So you're going to fight me now? Or is it…that you can't be certain you can block my next attack?"

"You sound quite certain for someone that's about to keel over at any moment. No matter, I intend on giving you the challenge you seek"

"Huff….huff…certain, maybe a little…huff. Only because you were generous enough to wait…."

"Wait for what—" But before Creivolt had finished his words, Shynerai took in one more deep breath:

"Will Force!" The impact of the words that were spoken with merely a whisper boomed with an unbounded weight, calling to the force of the heavens giving way. The booming as if to honor the power he gave off part the sky above as a pillar of emerald light rose into the air.

Elsewhere on the grounds of Trinity Cross Academy, in that very same moment

"That was odd, to have a staff meeting for specific teachers so early in the year, they're generally reserved for at least after the first quarter, maybe even after the Carnival."

"Best not think about it, Reiss, the Headmistress will inform us in due time of her intentions."

"Ulrich, always with the formalities with you. We've known each other long enough to practically make us family, and besides this isn't the only sudden change she's made this year."

"The very thought that you and I could be anything that even remotely resembles, family, or even companions would be laughable if it was so insulting. The fact that we are colleagues is one I barely tolerate. The headmistress has my surety and faith, I need not doubt her"

"You know I get that you like her, trust me I see it too though I prefer the "cute kind of girl" over one that could beat me bloody with my own spine"

"…I won't dignify that with an answer, in any case, I think the more accurate expression is "beaten bloody with the wet end of your own arm" or something along those lines"

"Not with her…Ah well, I'll just ask—"Professor Reiss's crimson gaze was glazed over with an emerald hue as a bright light burst upwards from the corner of the school grounds. The two's banter was immediately ended as he turned to Ulrich who responded in kind with a similar look.

"I didn't feel any magic, was it an attack?" Reiss asked in a much harsher voice.

"On our grounds, it would be foolish, though the rest of the school should soon be alerted. But we cannot wait for anyone else to arrive. We shall respond first!" Ulrich was quick to send out a message from his Notebook as he answered Reiss.

"I can't say I enjoy it when you order me around, we are probably the closest ones to the scene, so yeah…we'll go." 

Once in agreement, Reiss reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, before lighting a flame to life, he walked towards a classroom door, and spoke a chant in an inhuman tongue. With the flame taking to the words of his chant, it sprang from the lighter onto the wooden door before violently engulfing it. 

Though the door and the building remained unharmed, Reiss gestured to Ulrich to follow, with his lighter still open, he walked through the blazing passage as Ulrich followed behind:

"Idiot, now my suit is going to be stained with the scent of smoke…I'll be sending you my dry cleaning bill, Reiss." Ulrich whispered in dissatisfaction as he followed after making his way through the door.

Once they passed through, the flames behind them extinguished leaving a scorched sigil on the unharmed door.

The two appeared by the Arena's stands with Ulrich berating Reiss for using Flame Sigils despite the Headmistress' reservations, but Reiss merely closed his lighter and placed it back in his pocket as he made his way towards the walls of the Arena.

Creivolt readied himself for another sneak attack, as his now guarded form was bathed in an emerald light that drew in boreal winds, which whipped around Shynerai before entering his body and illuminating his frame.

Fiery trails of green burned out of his eyes and hair as two faint halos wrapped themselves around his wrists. Enough of the luminescence had been absorbed into him for Creivolt to make sense of the sight, but it still was not enough to faze him

"If all you bring are simply physical enhancements, then you have already lost. You will not stand a chance against my Magic."

"What you see is my will, let me show you just how strong it is."

"Then tell me, can you stand up against true Calamity?" Once again, Creivolt entered his stance in front of Shynerai.

"Honestly it should be an easy question for you to answer. From the way you fight, to the eccentric might that you wield and even what drives you, it's clear you are chaos incarnate. So then, allow me to engage you in the only language a being like you understands."

"Shynerai Astrapordt, let me show you what it means to embody a Disaster!"