NOVEL NEXT Chapter 220: The Trial of Speed.
That morning, the class on AAT turned out to be very informative, though Professor Jorendil became increasingly distracted towards the end, excusing himself from the class twice to hastily jot down ideas on a small notepad that never left his side.
When the class eventually ended, Professor Jorendil looked at Aodhán and subtly signaled him over. Leaving his things with Andrew, Aodhán jogged toward the stage where Professor Jorendil waited with a contemplative frown.
Aodhán had thought he looked bad from a distance, but he was even worse up close. His eyes were sunken with dark, heavy bags clinging beneath them like shadows. His skin was pale, almost sickly, with splotches of soot covering his neck and hands. His hair stood in wild, greasy tufts, and his lab suit, once white, was now a patchwork of scorch marks and chemical stains. He looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and sleep had long since stopped trying to find him.
"Are you alright, Professor?" Aodhán asked, worry evident in his tone.
Professor Jorendil waved off his concern. "Yes, yes. I'm—" He yawned widely and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm fine."
"I don't think you are, Professor. You look terrible. When was the last time you slept?
Professor Jorendil frowned, having to really think about it before shrugging. "Two weeks ago, I think. Or is it three?" He frowned and clenched his notepad tighter. "I can't remember. But don't worry about me; I'm fine. I called you here for something important. "You see, my study of alchemy is progressing smoothly, and I think I might be able to create the liquid chaos in two weeks."
"That's great news," Aodhán replied enthusiastically, setting aside his concern for now. "You're getting closer to the end goal."
"Ahh... yes." Professor Jorendil chuckled. "But there is a minor hiccup. I was wondering if I could trouble you for a favor or a transaction, whichever you would prefer. You see, I've run the calculations in my head multiple times, and I've realized that I need some sort of catalyst to bring it all together. There are, of course, many such catalysts on the market, but I was hoping to use that rain skill of yours instead. Tell me, have you ever tested the rain as an alchemical ingredient?"
Aodhán frowned. "I'm not sure my infused rain has many alchemical properties aside from its conductivity, clarity, and its meditative effects."
Professor Jorendil shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to try. I would very much like to test it out, and I think it could be fun."
Aodhán hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'd rather not."
Professor Jorendil's face fell, but he masked it immediately. "No, that's alright. I should get going."
He turned away, and that was when Aodhán finally understood what was happening. Professor Jorendil wasn't interested in the alchemical properties of his infused rain. He was interested in him. Professor Jorendil wanted to share this project with him—someone who had shown interest in his passion after everyone had written it off as impossible. Aodhán would have jumped at the opportunity if he weren't so busy.
With the selection trials consuming the bulk of his afternoon, his entire timetable had been rendered redundant unless he eliminated the time he'd scheduled for sleep entirely. Unfortunately, he hadn't quite reached the stage where he could function without sleep for three days straight.
Nevertheless, he had promised Professor Jorendil that he would show up and assist him with this project. If he left immediately after the first-year trial, he could probably fit this into his mangled schedule.
Aodhán gritted his teeth in contemplation. He had wanted to watch the trials of the other years, if only to get a glimpse of their power structure, but he had made a promise, and the man seemed so lonely. Besides, there was much he could gain from joining Professor Jorendil in his experiments. He didn't have much interest in alchemy, but it wouldn't hurt to know a few basic things.
Groaning inwardly, he called out. "Professor, wait."
Professor Jorendil stopped immediately and looked back at him with a hopeful expression. Aodhán exhaled. "I've never used the infused rain as an alchemical ingredient before, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."
Professor Jorendil grinned. "Then I shall order the alchemical catalyst immediately." His smile wobbled. "Just in case, you know, your infused rain doesn't work."
Aodhán chuckled. "I get it. I have to attend the selection trials now, but I'll come to your office as soon as they're over. In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep, Professor. That way, you'll be in top form when I join you."
Professor Jorendil nodded. "You're probably right. A few minutes of shuteye will do me some good."
"Only a few minutes?"
Professor Jorendil chuckled. "At my tier, half an hour is all I really need. I shall expect you in approximately two hours."
They parted ways after that, and Aodhán moved to join his friends. Yurin and Andrew were busy discussing something he couldn't hear, while Daruk was engrossed in a text about magical puzzles in preparation for the trial of intelligence.
Aodhán smiled as he walked toward them, grateful to have them as friends. Could he have done better? Aodhán doubted it. These three boys had dropped everything to be with him while he tweaked his icon phrase. He hadn't needed them to be there, but they had stayed regardless and hadn't even tried to sleep on his bed. Instead, they had slept on the wooden floor of his training room until Varéc had reluctantly provided them with a bed of clouds and huddled them under his wings for warmth.
Knowing how kindly Varéc had treated them the night before made the way he had woken them up this morning even more hilarious.
He had roared so loudly that all three boys had tumbled from the clouds to collapse on the wooden floor, eyes widening in panic as their beautiful dreams were abruptly cut short. All three of them had shot Varéc scathing glares, but Varéc had ignored them in favor of scratching his lustrous wings and flexing them rather obnoxiously.
After their harsh awakening, however, Aodhán and the boys had discussed at length the changes he had made to his icon phrase and how it might affect his interactions going forward.
I rise when I can.
The phrase offered him significant freedom and would only activate when there was a situation where he could offer help without harm to himself or anyone else. A good example of such an occurrence was when Imani had begged him for his perfect imbuement technique and he had refused. Aodhán hoped such an event wouldn't repeat itself. He still carried the guilt from that decision.
Thereafter, they had discussed the selection trial for today, which was the trial of speed. Obviously, the trial would involve some sort of speed and reflex exercise, but with the exclusion of icons, even Yurin was worried.
He soon joined them, and they began their walk to the arena, joining a host of other students making their way there. They arrived at the arena a few minutes later and made their way to a row of empty seats in the first-year section, only to find Marcellus and Imani seated in front of them... arguing.
"Well, isn't that a sight for sore eyes?" Daruk whispered, and Aodhán chuckled, secretly pleased because, to be honest, Marcellus was a bad influence on Imani and was most definitely just using her as a plaything until he got bored and moved on. Aodhán hoped this argument would escalate into something more permanent, and they would just break up.
Did that make him a bad person? Aodhán wasn't sure. That was just how he felt.
Azul and Scarlett soon joined them in their row, discussing the outcome of the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th year trials from yesterday after their abrupt exit from the arena. Apparently, the trials of the other years had been just as interesting as their own. Perhaps even more so if the picture they were painting was accurate.
The second years had faced their own version of the high striker, using great skills to try and beat the record of a man called Dunramir Khar'Zahl—a gravity-awakened and champion candidate from Calodan who hadn't lived long enough to actually claim the title of champion.
The record he had set was surprisingly high: 9,874. Then again, he had been at the 40th tier when he had taken the trial. The score only highlighted the vast difference between evolved and advanced class individuals.
Unsurprisingly, none of the second-year students had managed to even come close to his score, considering they were almost five to seven tiers behind the 40th tier. Aodhán predicted some massive power jumps before the tournament.
The third and fourth-year trials had been the most interesting, however. Aodhán wished he had been able to see them himself. The fact that he would also miss this one physically hurt.
They chatted for a few more minutes until everyone was seated, and a stunning second-year professor took the stage to anchor the trial. She was dressed in a flowing white gown that both hugged her body and flowed naturally at the same time.
With a core blazing with light essence, she picked up the microphone and introduced herself. "Good afternoon, esteemed students. For those who don't know me, my name is Professor Seraphine Atlas, second-year professor of Light Advancement Studies. Today, you will all be tested against the pillar of speed, and for that, we have repurposed the entire stage."
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She gestured to the concrete stage, and it suddenly shifted, a massive, circular platform carved from obsidian stone taking its place. The platform stretched nearly twenty-four meters in every direction. Smooth crystalline tiles rearranged themselves across the platform with a grinding hiss, forming a wide checkerboard pattern of white and black that pulsed with ambient essence. They shone, each one lighting up for a few seconds before diminishing back to perfect stillness.
"This is the Flash Field," Professor Seraphine explained. "The tiles will light up at random—sometimes singly, and other times in dozens. You will have sixty seconds to tag as many tiles as you can with any part of your body. The total number of tiles you tag will determine your record." She smiled and gestured toward the first-year section. "Are you guys ready?"
Aodhán wasn't sure he was ready, more because this trial looked nothing like what he had imagined for the trial of speed. Still, with the larger population of the year echoing 'yes,' Professor Seraphine nodded. "Very good. Let us begin, then. Please make your way forward."
Students jumped out of their seats, eager to take their positions at the front of the queue. Aodhán and his friends joined them, smiling as Scarlett wished them good luck from her seated position.
They joined the queue toward the end, intentionally occupying the last four slots. If there was a way to gain the most advantage in this trial, they'd rather have enough time to figure it out.
The line formed quickly, and this time, Indiana Remus was at the forefront. Her eyes were closed, her expression determined, and when Professor Seraphine called on the first challenger, she stepped onto the platform, scanning the checkered tiles with a narrowed gaze.
"Are you ready?" Professor Seraphine asked.
Indiana nodded. "I am."
Without warning, the first tile flared golden. But Indiana was prepared.
She blinked across the field—a blur of motion—as she tagged the tile with the tip of her boot. The tile darkened immediately, but two more flared. And then three. Then five. A dozen.
Indiana darted across the platform, a blur of color and wind as she tagged tile after tile. The moment one tile darkened, two more took its place. Wind swirled around her, propelling her forward. However, despite how impressive she was, Aodhán's attention was on the tiles themselves, searching for a pattern.
His eyes traced their activation and deactivation, watching for some kind of sequence, but after nearly thirty seconds of observation, Aodhán gave up on finding any sort of pattern. The tiles were completely unpredictable, forcing Indiana to move from edge to edge to tag them.
Sixty seconds were over in, well, a minute, and the scoreboard above the platform flashed.
Indiana Remus: 180 pts
Tobias Menzies went up next, metal strings swirling around him. He challenged the field with far less finesse and speed compared to Indiana, and a minute later, the scoreboard flashed again.
Tobias Menzies: 149 pts
In this manner, the line moved, favoring those with wind and spatial affinities the most. When Cyrus's turn came, he stepped onto the platform with a determined expression, wanting to redeem himself after the embarrassment of the last trial.
The moment the first tile flashed, Cyrus vanished, teleporting toward it in an instant. As the number of flashing tiles increased, though, he stopped teleporting and began compressing space itself, reaching his limbs through fist-sized wormholes to tag the tiles. With amazing reflexes, he struck out, his arms a blur as he identified the location of flashing tiles with {Spatial Sense} and tagged them.
The scoreboard flashed a minute later, and cheers rang out from the audience. Aodhán glanced up and exhaled nervously.
Cyrus Valerion: 201 pts
Aodhán was impressed—an unusual occurrence when it came to Cyrus—but he couldn't deny it. That was insane speed. Cyrus's reaction time had been almost instant, and although he'd missed a few tiles, the sheer number he'd tagged was astounding.
Grudgingly, Aodhán raised his hands to clap for Cyrus, only to find Grendar and Lilith smirking at him. Scowling, he folded his arms instead and began thinking of ways he could possibly beat such a score. To be honest, his chances were low. The only speed skill he had was {Surging Momentum}, and perhaps {Eye of the Storm}, but that wasn't the skill's main function. He had great reflexes, though, and his perception was very high, but Aodhán doubted those were enough.
While Aodhán thought of a way to increase his speed in this trial, the line kept moving, and a few minutes later, Ayisha stepped onto the platform. Her gaze was serene as she scanned the black and white tiles, almost confident, and Aodhán wondered just how she planned to beat Cyrus's score—because there was no way she wasn't thinking about it.
However, the approach she took surprised Aodhán, though in retrospect, he should have seen it coming.
Unlike everyone who had come before her and those who would come after, Ayisha moved even before the first tile lit up. Activating a short-range teleportation skill she had created specifically to combat Andrew, she tagged tiles the instant they flashed, then vanished again, tagging other tiles in the same manner.
Despite her use of teleportation, Aodhán was almost certain she was dilating time, slowing her perception to make the fast-flashing tiles appear sluggish. For the next sixty seconds, she darted from one end of the platform to the other, tagging tiles using a combination of temporal dilation, short-range time-skipping, and foresight. She wasn't just a blur; she was a mirage, seemingly appearing everywhere at once as her skills twisted the flow of time across the platform.
The scoreboard flashed a moment later, and Aodhán sucked in a deep breath. "Fuck me."
Ayisha Helsarin: 229 pts
Cheers rose up from the audience, but Yurin groaned. "Okay, I was nervous before, but now I'm fucking terrified."
Aodhán nodded. "Me too, buddy."
Yurin was a prime candidate to win this trial. He had a very high reaction time, much higher speed, high precision, and—more importantly—high sustainability. In a normal speedrun, he would outlast both Cyrus and Ayisha, as his skills weren't quite as energy- and willpower-draining. But with Cyrus's wormholes and teleportation and Ayisha's foresight and time dilation, he was outclassed on nearly every level. To win, he would need to do something truly extraordinary.
One by one, students stepped onto the Flash Field to challenge it.
Many of them tried, but only a few people managed to surpass 160 points, including Ursaz Urdania, Lysirel Cosmind, Lyra Davenport, Halima Sahiri, and even Isis. However, none of them surpassed Indiana, who held on firmly to third position until Imani stepped up.
Imani walked toward the platform with a loose gait, a vastly different persona compared to the nerdy girl he had known only a few months ago. The moment she stepped onto the platform, though, liquid shadow spread out from her feet to cover the entire platform. The liquid bubbled like boiling water for a moment, and then something very disturbing emerged.
Hands. Dozens of them—dark, feminine, twitching—reached up from the bubbling darkness. Their fingers moved in unnatural, jerking motions as if remembering how to grasp. One after another, full figures began to rise: soulless clones of Imani, darkness dripping from their bodies like tar.
The whole thing took only a few seconds, but when it was done, fifteen shadow clones had spread out to cover the entire platform, their soulless gazes scanning the tiles with unparalleled focus.
Imani stood in their center and smiled up at Professor Seraphine. "I'm ready."
A tile flashed an instant later, and Imani vanished, seamlessly merging with the shadow clone closest to the flashing tile. It was a bit slower than actual teleportation and undoubtedly more willpower-intensive, but it was certainly faster than simply running around the Flash Field—which was Aodhán's plan. A plan that was looking more and more embarrassing with every tile Imani tagged.
Yurin groaned in front of him and cursed himself for not branching into the illusion and cloning aspects of his affinity yet. Imani's skill was obviously new, and she seemed to still be getting the hang of it, but by the time her sixty seconds expired, Aodhán had more or less given up on the whole trial.
Imani Blackwell: 193 pts
Daruk and Andrew stepped up shortly after, both finishing with 170 pts and 159 pts respectively. Finally, it was Yurin's turn.
"Fuck, I'm nervous," he muttered, but Aodhán patted his back encouragingly.
"Don't be. Just give it your best."
Yurin mulled over his words for a moment, then shook his head. "I wish I could say that helped."
He stepped onto the platform a moment later and promptly cloaked himself in sleek armor of light. He activated {Light Web} and {Radiant Clarity} next, enjoying the thrum of increased perception as webs of light spread out from him to cover the entire platform.
Light Web was just like the name implied—a web of light rays that provided sensory input. It was a new skill, one he'd gotten by accident, actually, but when used in conjunction with Radiant Clarity, it drastically improved his perception.
Aside from the two skills he had activated, though, Yurin had an edge no one else did, and that was the simple fact that the tiles were flaring with light. Channeling a ton of willpower into {Light Sense}—a redundant skill here in Sector 5—Yurin focused his senses on the tiles, ignoring the abundance of light all around him. With enough focus, he should be able to sense the flare of light microseconds before it activates. It was his own version of foresight, and hopefully, it would take him far.
Opening his spirit to the origin plane of light, he looked up at Professor Seraphine and muttered, "I am ready."
The first tile flashed an instant later, but Yurin was already moving. He touched the tile just as it activated. The tile darkened immediately, dimming before it could even reach its full brightness, but Yurin was already gone, tagging another two tiles a microsecond after they activated. Like a beam of light, Yurin flashed around the field, a blur even to Aodhán.
Willpower poured out of him as he pushed his inherent speed to the very limit. He couldn't use his icon, but he was still the bearer of transcendent light. And he would be damned if he put his affinity to shame in a trial perfectly suited for him.
The words of his icon echoed in his mind like a chant as he raced from tile to tile. I will always advance! I will always advance! I will always advance! I will always...
With each echo of his phrase, Yurin's speed increased until only afterimages of him could be seen. Sixty seconds seemed to stretch into infinity, but when it finally ended, the entire arena was alive with cheers and applause.
Aodhán hoped. The entire arena hoped.
But when the scoreboard flashed to reveal Yurin's score, Aodhán's scream of pain was lost in the roar of the audience, many of whom had stood to their feet in frustration.
Yurin Lahey: 227 pts
"Two more fucking tiles!" Aodhán cursed, feeling the pain like a stab in the chest. Yurin had been so close. Two more tiles and he would have surpassed Ayisha's score. Ascendant! That had to hurt.
Still pained, Aodhán glanced at Yurin, who stood at the center of the Flash Field, seemingly frozen in shock. But Yurin wasn't quite as pained as Aodhán assumed. Instead, he was more amazed that he had been able to push himself so far.
Did it hurt that he had failed? Yes, but Yurin was just glad he hadn't disgraced his affinity with a poor showing.
He walked down from the platform a moment later and smiled at Aodhán. "Go win that thing for us."
Aodhán shook his head and cracked a sad smile. "If you're trying to mock me, Yurin, it's working."
He stepped onto the Flash Field a moment later and exhaled deeply. He had no speed buffs, save for the enhanced perception and reflexes that came from {Eye of the Storm} and perhaps the extra boost that came from merging with Varéc. {Surging Momentum} only gave him a temporary, starting burst of speed, not the overarching, consistent speed that he would need to make it to the top. So, yeah, Aodhán wasn't expecting to win this thing. Perhaps there was such a thing as being too balanced a fighter.
Sinking his mind as deeply as he could into {Eye of the Storm}, Aodhán activated his merge perk and opened his spirit up to the origin plane of storm. Strength thrummed through him, and with a determined exhale, Aodhán nodded to signal that he was ready.
The first tile flashed, and he blinked forward, tagging the tile instantly. {Surging Momentum} activated a moment later, giving him a sudden burst of speed, but it was only temporary, and after tagging the first five tiles, Aodhán's speed returned to normal. He didn't give up, though. With his enhanced perception and reflexes, Aodhán dashed from one end of the field to the other, wings arched to grant him more speed.
He was no Yurin, though, and when the scoreboard flashed a minute later, Aodhán glanced up and scowled. "Couldn't you have made it a round number?"
Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion: 199 pts
Scoffing, he walked off the platform, his score still flickering behind him as Professor Seraphine announced the beginning of the second-year trials.