Chapter 1— A Magicbringer

-2900 thousand years later-

"(Magic-bringer)

Hp:100

Mana: 100

Talent points—

Str: 3 Dex: 5 Int: 20

Agl: 8 Ch: 6 Prc: 7

Sp: 10 Lu: 4."

Valor, standing in front of the altar of stone formations was dazed baffled. Confused as the spectators, he couldn't help but mutter words in low voice, "what's the meaning of this?"

The altar of stones which faced him are carved with letters and runes that glowed luminescence. While glyphs floated merrily around the ancient rocks with their translucent round bodies, they sang and danced with vigor that another Magicbringer was born—which they always present when someone was embedded with path.

They floated around him like dancing fireflies, wanting him to be happy like how they feel. But he isn't. He looked at the white circle in front of him stupefied— it shouldn't be a circle. It should be a simple knife, yet what formed is a circle. The very least he expected it to be, as it is the symbol of the magicbringers— The humans who fight behind casting spells.

"Then what the hell was those years spent for?" he secretly questioned his father's friend in his mind, which is a foreseer, whom said he would wield blades with talent and glamour. His every slash will bring terror to his opponents and peace to his loved ones. Yet what he sees now is the opposite of what she said. It hit him dumbstruck and left not knowing what to do.

Coincidentally, He is from a branch-clan of blade bearers of the small town of the east of New Monarch, the Lustrave known as the generals of battles. Other roles are stillborn within them, but blade bearers are their pride; they have more books and resources for them. And due to the foretell, he practiced sword at a very young age. They were believed more when he turned out as loved by blades; he practiced and mastered techniques without the system's help. He learned them even though it is a norm to practice these techniques when one should be already on the main path, so he grew in love with the blades as how the blade techniques love him.

With that, He could already beat those that are on their second path, and his destiny is already woven by his family's plans; To become a legendary swordsman and maybe even become the leader of their family, fated to raise their position and influence more.

Murmurs filled with different thoughts were heard; disappointment, relief, and pleasure.

"Looks like General Louie doesn't have an heir to pass his techniques, I should apply my son then and try my luck." From a seat is where that utterances came from, not long after, and different ones but still near his situation echoed. They are evident in his ears, but he doesn't know what to feel. However, he knew what they all feel.

Even when a town is called healthy, hierarchy still exists within.

Amidst those murmurs, words pronounced aloud silenced them, "Next!" Valor was wakened surprised, he looked behind him and saw a line of youngsters of his age. Most of them are in their thirteenth years. All saw him gaining his title, but none felt relieved and mocked him—they felt scared. They can't dwell on someone's misfortune anymore when the assurance of the foreseers are broken. They awaited worried that what they had practiced for years is not suitable for their role, as all for sure had already confronted a foreseer to prepare for this day.

Valor walked down the stairs of two steps and went to the seats where he should wait for the ritual to end.

"Shit, I should have taken that lucky charm from that granny..."

The youngster in the lane diminished in number until no one was left in waiting. Finally, an older man wearing a mage gown came to the stage; he walked with every step not creating any sounds, while everyone awaited his words patiently. He has the typical look of mid-order wizards, Wrinkled, dotted moles, long white beard, and eyes containing the wisdom of experience.

"Now that the ceremony concluded, the arts of tradition shall begin. Your first battle as aspirings will come next . . . your very first battles as proper pathakers. Good luck as the winners shall have their respective rewards after the matches ended," he said and casted a spell from his magic grimoire, "Traria focroum!" casting a spell doesn't need it to be pronounced; if you know the proper composition of the magic circles is a spell, then the spell would follow quickly. This old geezer is probably a fan of mages from the fantasy novels.

The people quickly noticed the stage as it sunk with the altar of rocks and the floating wisp that surrounds it, before big squares and pieces of puzzles floated in the air; they hovered as the altar and glyphs descent the ground-- this benign beings love mana more than anything, and would follow anything that emits mana generously.

After the altar sunk, the pieces of large cement decided to come down and filled the hole where the altar once reside; a new stage was formed as a perfect stepping stone for raging battles. It has an area of twenty meters square, enough for the youngs that don't have much power as their damage cannot be that severe.

Seeing this, the youngsters wiggled excitedly as they stood up-- eager for the battles and recognition of this towns high-ranking officials, but not all of them.

Valor looked at his status seriously and contemplated, 'I need to know the basics of magicbringers if I wants to fight on the stage.'

Though he can still fight with blades, it is considered profane when he is a magicbringer, "I need to learn fast or I would offend spectating mages."

They are given thirty battle points at the start of their role, because here is where the additional features are added. The spell pouch and the market of spells(This is for Magicbrigers), The market of the system where he can buy ready-to-use magic, the spell that will be instantly downloaded in their brain.

-Market of spell-

-Fireblast, lowest version— fire a fireball that explodes when it hit a solid-state. (you should watch out where this will explode, it can knock you too.)

Thirty Battle points.

Buy? (Yes or No.)

-MagneticDust— A spell that summons iron dust that surrounds you can help you lessen the forces of metal projectiles and short-range attacks.

Thirty Battle points.

...

Valor pondered it seriously and picked the spell that is the most beneficial for him

-Fireblast Acquired!

Like him gaining knowledge of writing in three seconds, he quickly knew how to cast the spell. He doesn't know the basics and how the magic circle works, but he can create the magic circle of Fireblast. It has three circles, two red and one yellow. One red circle is larger than the two, while the two revolves around it with magic bonds that keep them intact.

His father said to not rely on the system and study it himself even if he already bought with battle points; he found it time-consuming but his father said to him seriously, "trust me." so he trusted him and mastered swordsmen's techniques with his blood and sweat, but it is now rendered useless when his mana isn't for coating sword but to create magic circles.

"Sorry dad, I need to rely on this system this time," he disregarded his father's words for the first time, as he would like to win.

He placed the confusion and worries for his plans at the future at the back of his mind. He can't have thoughts in the battle other than the battle itself.

Valor breathed heavily while they walked at the side of the stage, prepared to have their ballot of numbers. Fate will decide on who they should fight. The pathtaker Infront extended her hand inside a box using a hole and took it out with a ping pong ball on her pal; it says twenty. She is the first in line but the last to fight, lucky if Valor is asked.

Not long after, and it is his turn to draw his number, he sighed and pleaded to the fate that it should give him the numbers of the latter parts, as he can learn by spectating the battles with the contestant of pure magic bringers. Much appreciated it if he can see angela fight, His Childhood friend and rival. She is a monster in magic and can cast tier two spells with a success rate of a hundred percent even without the system's help. Like him, she is a magic maniac that can stand toe to toe against secondary pathtakers, and Like ordinary parents, parents here love to take credit for their child's talent. That's why the two of them are encouraged to beat the other even though it can be seen that they are good friends.

But fate's cruel this time; he picked number one. The very first one.

By the name of fair probability! I got one! he said in his mind while he looked at it baffled. The wizard cleared his throat two times as he glaznsed at him, signing him to go on. Valor had thoughts of drawing again but the grumpy face of this old man warns him not to do so.

He could only sigh and went on the side of the stage; Here, he waited for his opponent to arrive and the wizard's order to be heard.

The clock clicked thirty minutes before nine, and all already have their numbers,

"Wish me luck in my first battle as a magic bringer." Valor did some stretching when he saw his opponent climbing the stairs, and prayed to stiffened his resolve.

He stood at the edge while he gazed at his opponent, It's a boy from the Trants, the troublesome trants. He is as big as him and is also a magic bringer, Blonde hair, green eyes, and their nasty expression.

Wearing a leather set like him, both can be said equal in terms of set. What will differentiate them would be their skills.

They neared their distance before Valor bowed to him when the mage raised his hands; it is an unwritten rule when fighting on a stage. But the boy didn't comply and made the spectators sour in displeasure; the boy didn't mind it and still remained his attitude. It seems like he grew with the same looks around him.

Trants are famous for their cunningness, but still, they are respected because they use that aptness not against their nation but to fend off hostile foreign businesspeople. They are the white-blood-cell of the new monarchs, in terms of business, that is.

Valor fished out his short sword under his belt, but the boy of the other side didn't ready himself. Instead, he raised his right hand, signing the mage he has something to say, "Isn't mages supposed to fight at the back and fight with combos of spells," he said smiling, spectators already knew what this boy is up to, but they didn't react yet. Not until the mage made his decision, "So?" the mage asked while he lowered his arms. He knows this will take time and his hands will only sweat weary if he didn't take it down.

"So... It means s fight between mages is supposed to be long-ranged. It is said that we must learn as early from our young age, magic bringer fighting with shortsword is profane and is destined to die in battle." The spectators were then halved into two parties, those who agreed with the Trant— which is mostly mages, and those that disagreed, Valor's father and mother is one of those.

Valor looked at his opponent angry, clearly, this trant knew that Valor's winning rate would be decreased tremendously if his ability to wield blade is removed. The mage became pressured because of this. His decision will offend someone, no matter what he does. So he looked around the spectators and focused on general Louie; he is already looking back at him.

But Louei with his cold gaze didn't respond and just watched the scene transpire, this confused the mage as he doesn't know what that means.

But soon he remembered he was incharge of this competition, which made him shrug in faith and decided to continue the fun. He laughed, faked, and said to the boy with knowledge of a veteran, "Boy, there are situations on the battlefield where mages would be forced to fight in close combat; that's why there is a course of basic self-defense for mages."

The boy looked away in displeasure and faced valor before he summoned his blank magic circle with a smile.

The mage then nodded and continued the battle, he raised his right hand and looked at both participants separately—with a nod, he quickly waved it down. "Fight!" Valor clutched his shortsword's handle with his right hand and summoned a blank magic spell on his left one.

But they didn't move and only looked at each other in patient wait, like praying mantises that gaze through its prey; Because The one who had the first move will have the lower chance of winning.

Spells, may it be real or systemed, they still have cooldowns. Though mages who already created their grimoire can tremendously lessen the time to zero, it needs more mana than the required, It's the exchange mages all hate. But the two are not mages yet, and had just started being pathtakers a moment ago. His fireblast has six seconds of cooldown and would need ten mana points, which means a whole six-seconds interval before he can cast another one.

After ten seconds of intense glares, Valor knew this wouldn't go anywhere. He decided it's time for him to take the risk, though it isn't that risky when he has a backup plan.

Valor suddenly placed mana in the magic circle and caused it to glow red and yellow then revolved faster. The trant noticed it and quickly smiled, he did not activate his magic yet and just waited for Valor to cast his spell. He can assure he can win if he uses this chance correctly.

Valor exhaled heavily before he inhaled deeply, adapt to this kind of situation, his glare sharpened while his muscles heated up. This is the basic breathing of swordsmen that can power their perception, agility, speed and, strength by two points. his left hand moved while the muscle of the trant contracted, nervous as he saw Valor with his stance—even when nerfed by his path. He still carries the blood of the generals.

Valor suddenly straightened his left hand and casted the spell, but not to his opponent. Instead, to the stage below him.

It blasted him to the direction of the trant with tremendous speed, wind blew on his face and everything became fast but also slow. This kind of situation where his sorrounding moving in a rushed manner was already engraved to his guts, he can even think with clarity. Valor readied his shortsword on air. While the trant activated his spell, Smiling that victory is his.

"Magneticdust!" The boy said before he readied another spell, real this time. Blank magic circle formed first before they gained colors and rotated with mana.

And while he readied the spell, dust of glowing silver-colored metals suddenly appeared and floated around, They aren't that many as the spell is still at the lowest grade— a tier one, but it can fend off enough slash that may go to him.

Valor on air, exhaled with his breath steamed, "Simple slash— static charged." The slash came fast, while the spell is nearly finished—another second and it will be ready to activate then burn Valor if he was hit. In his calculation, after Valor's blade was repelled by the dust—he had already secured his victory.

'It's my win!' he said in his mind expecting as he watched Valor getting near.

But the sword went through the cloud of magnets, not minding them at all, while the magnets didn't mind it either—they didn't protect the grant from Valor's blades, nothing he expected happened.

'Having my shortsword lightly discharged with electricity, the magnetic ability of the dust wouldn't work on my blade. It wouldn't be repelled nor it would be slowed down—I learnt this trick by the sparring against a certain someone.'

The trant was surprised and tried to avoid the mighty slash, but Valor's sword was just fast and precise. It was directed rapidly against his neck's path, so he couldn't help but close his eyes scared while he prayed that the mage would stop Valor in time. A deep scar is the best exchange for his life in this situation.

But his pain didn't come, instead, a gentle breeze was felt. He opened his eyes curious before relief came after. Valor's sword didn't reach his neck and stopped one centimeter away, nearly reaching his neck.

His heavy breath was heard in his very ears, while the magic circles still lied on his hands, it wasn't completed—He didn't have the chance to charge it either. Real magic isn't automatic, you need time to build the magic circle yourself—He knows he made a big mistake when he didn't prepare his spell earlier. Well, he knew that he is no match for Valor, the blade maniac of their small town, still, he fought with all his might.

Claps were heard from the audience while the two backed down.

"You have defeated your enemy!

10exp, 10bp was rewarded to you."

Valor backed down and sheathed his blade under the leather on his waist, he straightened his body and looked at the boy before he bowed down again. The trant of course couldn't be that petty, he also bowed to Valor while the mage decided the winner. "Winner!" The mage said and pointed his whole hand at Valor.

The trant smiled and had Valor a piece of his mind before he could descend the stage, "You're strong now, but how about when you truly became a mage?" Trants are indeed cunning, he didn't say it just because he felt it. It is to dig a hole in Valor's heart, rendering him handicap with thoughts and words.

The trant descended the stage with Valor at the other side, he knows what the trant said are words to bug him across the match, and also beyond the match. But what the trant said was true, he'll fall behind if he truly became a mage— what he learnt isn't magic but blades, it's not that he isn't good at magic circles if he tried, The time it will take is still months and even years. Not to mention it is all should be intermediate— he had fallen too deep with blades, he can't just learn another one and disregard the other.

Humans can't even move on for years if heartbroken by the once lovers they truly loved, those they can say perfect for them, those who can understand and accept their mischief. Like them, Valor understands blades very well, like how blades understands him, they match perfectly.

Valor sighed as he pondered deeply before he shook his head, he then threaded to descend the stage and went to the side where the winners shall wait. Here, empty seats are found as he was the first to finish.

Valor seated at second row and glanced above the stage, the upcoming battle is a bodybuilder and a bladebearer. Just as the battle starts, Valor knew what will the outcome be.

He sighed bored and looked away, trying to find something that will entertain him for a while. But just like a fresh wound, the words before are hard to forget. His expression worsened and he fell into abstract of thoughts, Nothing was heard but the questions in his mind—Worried and scared, he doesn't like the feeling, but he doesn't know how to get rid of it. In result, he was left selfless with pondering.

But throughout his pondering loop, a familiar tone echoed that placed him out of his perilous thoughts, it have him focus on his surroundings again. He noticed he isn't alone on the row of chairs anymore, There are now four more pathtakers here— one of them is his friend, "You okay?" Angela said while she seated beside him.

Her braided hair shone with their golden color, white skin, and silvery eyes. She is as big as him and is just beautiful if the other males are asked.

Valor nodded continually before stuttering saying, "Yea-yeah I'm... I'm fine at all."

Angela chuckled and teased Valor for his obvious lies, "...It is all written on your face Val, I'm okay my ass..." But she didn't found the usual energetic Valor that will smile and defend himself with another obvious lie, instead, he stared at the groundd again and had already forgotten she's here.

She pouted and smashed his back with her small hand, Valor's curved posture was straightened because of that, "Geez, this world is freaking huge Val,"

"Yeah, it's big where many place are left to explore, but I can't now because of my path"

"No! You are just in the small town of the east of New Monarchs, Sooner or later and you'll find and a way or path that is suitable for you."

"how do you know that? was there books in your library?" he asked a bit gaining his spirit, but it was killed again.

"No I don't have but I know you'll find one then much later, you'll be back on your usual tracks, to become a free man that isn't railed by orders and is traveling across the countries and rifts, a mysterious man who always reaches the top."

"But mages are railed by orders, they have strict rules or you'll be banished to the rifts."

"Who said mage can't fight close combat? It is those cowards of the higher orders, grumpy when it comes to tradition and prejudice. There are for sure more paths for magicbringers to take," she then summoned a fireball and played it on her hands, and continued.

"It isn't just discovered yet, or not that well known because of some... I don't know... ridiculous reasons?"

Valor kept looking at the floor but later on looked at her, he smiled without much more worries— like his usual self, optimistic and always trust himself that he can do it. Always driven by reasons to get stronger, even if some seems stupid, he can still prove it with a breathtaking outcome. "I guess I'll see you at the finals then." He said to her before a coin appeared on his hand, he then played with it, like the coin was the one moving on his hand itself— the very foundation of bladebearer, Give life to your weapon.

She playfully snapped her fingers and the fire vanished, she looked at him with a playful gaze and said to him with chuckles, "Oh please, as if you can beat me. How much is it already? Ten losses?"

Valor flicked the coin upwards and caught it with his right hand, he clutched it before opening his hand again, the coin is not there anymore, it was never there to begin with, "I believe it is ten wins, you forgot to count." he looked at her smiling.

Angela sighed and said in resignation, "From those ten battles, all were tied. You're a hard nut to crack Val, Let's say this battle shall be the tiebreaker, the winner for sure will have this title for years because the next battle would be the first in a very long time we met again. Beyond those borders. Or Beyond the forests. Or Beyond the rifts." She said looking at the stage, but her gaze wasn't there, Valor only smiled at her before he tapped her shoulder, "Enough with the depressing future probability, what happens will happen, We just got to beat it like how will beat the present." she was about to answer when another voice echoed.

"Having our lovey-dovey moments ey?" A hand from behind settled on their shoulders, Marcus, the son of this town's sheriff joined the group. Though he doesn't have that much power in memorizing theorems and methods, like his buddies, he is an eccentric genius who can make guns on his own. He created inventions, that can buff him more as a marksman and a fighter. Besides a group isn't complete without the reckless and loud one.

This guy has unusually white hairs, it was said that the leak of mana from before caused it. He is larger than Valor by only an inch while three-inch larger than Angela. He has a fair build with all the assets on his face.

With a beautiful smile he asked, "So what you guys talking about?" The others answered and their conversation blossomed.

Marcus's father, the sheriff is a bodybuilder that can compete with high-ranking patholders. Like Valor, Marcus wants to be a fighter like his father, but he also loves creating machines like his mother that passed away three years ago. Because of this, His father saw his mother in him whenever he makes his machines, so he was supported full-heartedly, that's why he grew up as a spoiled child that only plays with his toys and robots he made himself. But not when he met the two.

"By the way, I heard from a client of pops...there is a stray monster that came out of the Siege fortress, it is said that it is an ogre. A very bulky one." He is the source of their information and quest, they will go on a hunt whenever there is a report of a monster getting here from the Siege fortresses near here. Through that, they learned how vicious and how powerful these beings are, From a berserk boar to semi-human monsters. Goblins, orc, ogre, gana. Many have already been seen and defeated by them.

"Think like we got something to hunt now that we're a pathtaker eh? How about Sunday morning, like always, to the hut of the Silver tree." Angela nodded while Valor had one condition, "But don't bring someone else..." He said looking at Marcus.

Marcus's brows knotted in confusion before he asked a bit static, "Why?". Valor looked away and sighed heavily, "I am referring to whoever your new girlfriend is, everytime you bring one always run away pissing herself, pretty shitty to see someone so helpless with her cowardice."

Angela laughed by the comment and continued to watch the fight, beside her and on the stage in front, time passed and the first round was finally done. The mage again went up the stage and announced the winners before announcing those who they'll be fighting.

Valor got one again, while Angela got ten, 'Looks like fate is unusually unfair to me.' he said in his mind before going on the stage again, Valor stood straight before he saw his opponent, a Bladebearer.

Valor looked at his opponent with a gaze, intense as a predator that hides in the dark. He clutched his sword and rushed to her.