Chapter 76: The Ripple Effect
After the trial, Celeste quickly returned to her training, but the few people who had witnessed her battle against Odin wasted no time in spreading the tale. News of how she not only held her own against the mighty summon but also healed her sister mid-battle spread like wildfire. But what truly shocked everyone was the moment when Odin, the steadfast steed of legends, bowed before her, ethereal words floating above him:
"It only yields to the strong… and those who heal their allies."
This revelation sent waves through those who had attempted the trial before. It forced many to reevaluate their failures. Never had they considered aiding their partners—why would they when the summons would restore them once they reached a certain threshold of injuries? Now, speculation ran rampant. Did every trial have such hidden conditions? Had they all been blinded by their own assumptions?
At the Mage Academy, where students trained in various forms of magic, the news reached the ears of a young commoner boy with fists of iron named Darius Vale.
A tall, broad-shouldered young man with tanned skin, messy dark brown hair, and sharp green eyes. His body was built like a warrior's, honed by years of training in boxing, with thick arms and calloused fists from endless strikes. His signature outfit was a sleeveless training jacket over a fitted black tunic, showing off the strength he prided himself on.
Darius Vale, a popular commoner boy from a long line of adventurers, but unlike most, his lineage didn't rely on weapons or magic alone. His parents, former adventurers, had mastered a unique fighting style called boxing, using raw skill and battle instincts to overcome even the strongest monsters. When they retired, they opened a small boxing school, using their hard-earned gold to send Darius to the academy.
For Darius, however, there was one motivation that burned hotter than all else—Elena.
He had feelings for her, but Celeste, her overprotective older sister, was like a force of nature standing in his way. If he wanted a chance at being with Elena, he had to prove he was worthy.
"If I can pass one of these trials… If I can get a summon of my own… Celeste won't be able to stop me," he muttered, fists clenched.
Darius specialized in defensive magic, allowing him to absorb blows that would break lesser men. But in the wake of Celeste's trial, he realized he needed more.
I can't just take hits—I need to fight back.
He focused, channeling magic into his fists. A faint chill spread across his knuckles as he threw a punch at the training post. Ice crept along the surface.
Ice punches.
With this, he would freeze his enemies mid-strike, lock them down before they could retaliate. If brute strength alone wasn't enough, then he would adapt.
And one day, he would stand beside Elena—without fear of Celeste tearing him apart.
In the Adventurers' Guild, where warriors gathered for work and glory, a certain half-elf named Nyx Ravaryn sat with her party, a playful smirk on her lips.
She was a tall, athletic half-elf with sleek black hair that cascaded past her shoulders, deep violet eyes that shimmered with mischief, and sun-kissed tan skin. She carried herself with effortless confidence, dressed in a dark green leather coat over black adventurer's armor, with a wickedly curved spear always strapped to her back.
Nyx listened as her companions relayed the latest rumors.
"So, Celeste managed to make a summon bow to her, huh?" she mused, sipping her drink. "Not surprising. Girl's got that untouchable kind of power."
Her party members exchanged looks, knowing exactly where this was going. Nyx had been enamored with Celeste for some time now, always looking for excuses to go on missions with her, always trying (and failing) to flirt with her.
"Guess that means she's even further out of your league now," one of her companions teased.
Nyx clicked her tongue. "Tch. You're underestimating me." She picked up her spear and twirled it between her fingers. "If I can pass one of these trials myself, that'll change things, won't it? Celeste respects strength. If I prove I'm strong enough—she won't be able to ignore me forever."
She had the skills, no doubt about that. A master with the spear, she was swift and deadly in battle, her every strike calculated and precise. But what truly made her feared was her mastery of curse magic—spells that could sap an enemy's strength, slow their movements, or erode their defenses over time.
Nyx grinned to herself. "Yeah... I think it's time I take one of these trials for myself."
In a small village within the western dukedom, a young boy named ren ardent sat on a worn-out training post, gazing at the distant sky. His father stood nearby, watching with quiet approval.
A slim but sturdy young boy with short silver-white hair and piercing blue eyes, his face still holding traces of childhood but his expression hardened by loss. He wore simple but durable clothes—brown boots, a blue tunic, and a dark hooded cloak that once belonged to his late mother.
Just a two years ago when Ren was just a child group of bandits came. They had killed his mother. They had tried to sell his village into slavery.
And then, Celeste had arrived with her khight squad.
She had saved them. She had saved him.
That day, he had made a silent vow: One day, I'll be strong enough to stand beside her.
The village guards and mage had taken him under their wing, teaching him everything they knew. Though still young, he had a natural gift for earth magic, able to reshape the battlefield to his advantage—creating walls, barriers, and spikes to control his enemies. But what truly made him stand out was his ability to enhance others.
With his magic, he could temporarily strengthen his allies—boosting their speed, power, and endurance.
He clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes.
"Soon… I'll be strong enough to fight alongside her."
Far away, in another dukedom at night, a dark elf named Orin Veynir listened to the excited chatter.
Orin A tall, broad-shouldered dark elf with black skin, sharp golden eyes, and a voluminous afro of brown hair. Though over a hundred years old, he appeared no older than a handsome middle-aged human. He dressed in a long, practical coat, blending wisdom and rugged charm.
Orin had fought in the Great War over a century ago, a time when elves, humans, and beastkin clashed for dominance. While many of his kin held onto old traditions, Orin believed in change and freedom.
Unfortunately, his long lifespan came with an unexpected challenge—his tireless bundle of joy, his grandsonTemren Veynir.
A young dark elf boy, barely past childhood, with short brown hair, bright golden eyes full of mischief, and a boundless energy that exhausted everyone around him.
"Grandpa, come on! We gotta go see the trials!" Temren whined, practically bouncing with excitement.
Orin sighed, rubbing his temples. He'd hoped this trip around the continent would be a relaxing experience, a chance to teach his grandson about different cultures and perspectives.
Instead, he was being dragged into another adventure.
"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Orin muttered.
"Nope!" Temren grinned.
"Fine, fine. We'll head to the western dukedom," Orin relented, shaking his head.
As Temren cheered, Orin felt a familiar sensation—a few watchful eyes on him.
A glance to the side confirmed it.
Several single mothers from the marketplace were watching him like a pack of hungry wolves.
Over the years, Orin had become somewhat of a legend among single moms—a rugged, dependable man who looked young, but had the wisdom of centuries. Many had tried to woo him, but every time, he had a foolproof escape plan.
"Oh, would you look at that? My grandson needs me," Orin said loudly, grabbing Temren's shoulder. "Such a handful, this kid. Can't take my eyes off him for a second!"
"Hey, what—"
"Time to go! Off we go! Grandparent duties, you know how it is!"
Dragging a confused Temren away, Orin mentally patted himself on the back.
"One of the best parts of being an elf is our long lifespan… but that also means they stay kids a lot longer. Perfect excuse."
The streets of Greyhold bustled with morning activity as Reyn made his way toward the Mage Academy. Merchants called out their wares, adventurers gathered near the guild discussing their latest quests, and the scent of fresh bread from the bakeries filled the air.
Reyn adjusted his satchel, carrying a few forged trinkets he had made the night before. Today was the day—the advanced test that would determine if he could graduate two years early. He had spent weeks preparing, despite barely attending classes.
As he neared the city entrance, a familiar sight greeted him—Garret, still carrying the massive Buster Sword on his back. The rugged adventurer stood with his arms crossed, his usual confident grin in place, but this time, a young boy stood beside him, looking up at him with admiration.
Garret smirked as Reyn approached. "Look who it is! How've you been, kid?"
Reyn grinned. "Busy as always."
Reyn smirked. "Still lugging my baby around? I figured you'd have traded it for something lighter by now."
Garret chuckled. "Are you kidding? This thing's part of my legend now. It's cut through more monsters than I can count. Besides, I can't just not carry it around—gotta set an example for the kid."
Reyn raised an eyebrow, glancing at the boy. He looked about eleven or twelve, with scruffy black hair and wide, eager eyes. He wore a basic adventurer's tunic and carried a wooden practice sword strapped to his back.
Reyn crossed his arms. "And who's this?"
Garret ruffled the boy's hair, making him scowl. "This little guy? Found him on a quest a while back. Kept following me around, begging to be my apprentice until I gave in." He shrugged. "Guess I'm stuck with him now."
The boy puffed out his chest. "I'm Theo! And one day, I'll be even stronger than Garret!"
Reyn chuckled. "Oh yeah? That's a big goal, kid."
Theo nodded fiercely. "Garret's gonna teach me everything! Maybe one day, I'll even wield the Buster Sword!"
Garret let out a hearty laugh. "Heh, maybe… But who knows? Maybe I'll open a real swordsmanship school one day and pass it down to someone worthy."
Reyn's smirk widened. "That's actually pretty cool. A place where warriors train under the legendary adventurer Garret, wielder of the Buster Sword? I'd bet half the city would line up for that."
Garret grinned. "Heh, you flatter me."
Reyn shifted his bag on his shoulder. "Well, if you're planning on passing it down, you can give it to him now. I made you a new sword… and something extra that'll be a surprise."
Garret's eyes widened. "No way. You actually made me another one?"
Reyn nodded. "You'll see it later. But trust me, it'll suit you better than the Buster Sword."
Garret let out a deep, excited laugh. "Now that is something to look forward to. But first, you've got a big test today, right?"
Reyn smirked. "Yeah, time to prove I don't actually need to be in class to ace everything."
Garret clapped a hand on Reyn's shoulder. "Then good luck, kid. Make sure they feel the weight of your knowledge."
Theo chimed in. "Yeah! Show 'em what a real adventurer looks like!"
Reyn grinned and waved them off, heading for the academy.
As soon as Reyn stepped onto the Mage Academy's grounds, the murmuring started.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
"Does he really think he's going to graduate early?"
"He skips class all the time—this time, he's gonna get punished for sure."
"Yeah, but have you seen his test scores? Perfect marks on every exam."
"That's because he's the apprentice of that famous blacksmith. No way they'd actually expel him."
Reyn ignored the whispers as he strode through the hallways. He had gotten used to this by now—most students either envied him, resented him, or didn't understand him. He wasn't some noble's son with endless resources, nor was he a typical mage. He had one foot in the world of warriors and the other in the world of scholars, and that confused a lot of people.
The only ones who didn't question him were the professors.
He arrived at the professor's office, knocking once before stepping in.
Professor Aldric, a tall, thin man with sharp silver eyes, looked up from a stack of papers. His gaze was as piercing as ever, but there was the slightest hint of amusement.
"Ah. Reyn," Aldric said, setting down his quill. "On time for once. A pleasant surprise."
Reyn smirked. "Figured I'd make an exception today."
Aldric leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Your advanced test consists of two parts. First, the written exam, where you'll be tested on complex magical theory, alchemical properties, historical applications, and advanced runes. Given your track record, I expect you'll pass without much trouble."
Reyn nodded. "And the second part?"
Aldric's eyes gleamed. "A performance exam. You'll be assigned a task demonstrating your ability to apply magic practically. However…" He paused. "Your case is unique. Most students here specialize purely in magic, but you… have an unusual blend of magic and craftsmanship."
Reyn smirked. "So what, you're going to have me forge a sword in record time?"
Aldric chuckled. "Not quite. But your task will be… unconventional."
Reyn raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional how?"
Aldric didn't answer directly. Instead, he slid a sealed envelope across the desk.
"You'll find out soon enough. The test begins shortly. Good luck, Reyn."
Reyn picked up the envelope, already curious. A written test was easy—he had read more books in the past year than most students would in their entire academy career. But a performance-based challenge meant one thing:
They were going to test test his utilization of everything he's learned.
And Reyn never backed down from a challenge