Gamer Reborn

As the group went to sleep in their inn surrounded by Lioriel and her guards that night only one person remained awake.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Aranor responded. “She is just fine.”

“What about Ajax?” the king asked.

“He… He caused quite a bit of trouble.” Aranor answered.

“He did?” the king sounded surprised considering what he knew about Ajax. “You sure the prince didn’t just use him as a scapegoat?”

“One of the noble brats here was insulting Lady Manashaper, you see.” Aranor explained. “Ajax unlocked his Aura at that scene.”

“An Aura so young!” the king exclaimed. “It shouldn’t be a big problem, Sylvaris isn’t her father at most she’ll push a little for some information on Gryndor’s mystery technique.”

“She already tried that, the prince didn’t budge.” Aranor summed up. “She did get a sneak peak at Ajax’s thinking after the first time he saw a fortress tree however.”

“Oh, what was his reaction to seeing one like? It's always funny to see Alchemists seeing one for the first time, especially when it's the palace.” the king asked with excitement.

“Inspired?” the king sounded a little confused at the tone Aranor said that with.

“He figured out that fortress guardians could exit.” Aranor couldn’t see the king but in such a private setting he would bet his own estate the king’s jaw had fallen. “More than that he questioned what would happen if we were to add a young tree that is already bonded to the fortress when it already has a guardian.”

“That…” the king now experienced the same shock Deepwood’s royal family had earlier in the day.

“I’m guessing we have no records on this matter?” Aranor asked.

“None that I remember seeing.” The king regained his composure quickly as he started putting a plan in action. “I’ll have the archives scoured and will contact you if we find anything. If you don’t hear back from me before you have to leave the capital, offer Sylvaris a partnership, we share the results of the experiment and we will provide the sapling.”

“Are you sure?” the lack of formal address meant that Aranor wasn’t questioning his king as a champion but merely showing concern for his friend. “A sapling is very valuable and costs a lot to grow.”

“I’m sure my friend.” the king’s voice was filled with warmth at the concern. “My father used a lot of the wealth he spent on growing the royal palace, a few years without growth during my reign won’t matter, especially if it can potentially save the life of one of my people.”

Aranor was ready to argue a little but the king’s final thought made the words stick in his throat. In all the excitement about the possibility of multiple fortress guardians Aranor had overlooked the possibility that the guardian attempting to join the bond through the sapling could very well suffer, he would not physically die but the mental or spiritual harm that was possible could be just as bad if not worse.

Before the conversation could continue Aranor’s attention was drawn to the noise he heard coming from the outside. A battle was taking place, something he very much expected to happen but had hoped wouldn’t.

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“I’ll never hear the end of it…” Aranor mumbled before bidding the king a short emergency goodbye and already started moving.

The entire group was sleeping in a single large room that was partially sectioned off by multiple dividers. The prince had insisted that this was the best way to not only protect them but to also let them rest properly even in the event of an attack. Aranor had been ready to argue the point but fell quiet when both Arianwyn and Elara agreed with the prince. In the end it turned out he was right.

A short activation of the communication device was all it took for him to wake up the prince, the four hours of sleep the prince had gotten wouldn’t be a lot but it was enough for someone of his level to push through the rest of the night and the following delve in the morning.

With the prince awake and on alert Aranor could now go outside and see what was going on. Much like he had interpreted from the noise he heard the streets surrounding the inn had been turned into a battlefield. Lioriel as well as three more champion candidates the queen had assigned to their protection detail and the other twenty elite soldiers they already had escorting them were fully engaged in combat against eight elves.

The attackers were all dressed in black but that was just a simple covering, with his Perception if he squirted hard enough he could almost make out the House sigil that was covered by the dark paint on the armor the attackers wore. Something he found deeply disturbing as anyone who was doing so little to conceal their identity wasn’t afraid of the queen finding out what they had done, the disguises were simply for the benefit of the commoners.

The battle had been heading towards a slow victory for the eight attackers before Aranor joined. The moment Aranor unleashed his fist volley of ice lances the tides turned immediately. Powerful as the attackers were, Aranor was something more, his experience in such high level battles showed as he threw out his spells while not only accurately predicting his opponents moves but even those of their allies despite not having fought side by side with them before.

“Thank you.” Lioriel said as she caught her breath now that the tides were turning, her voice however quivered with shame.

“What is it?” Aranor asked harshly, he was in no mood for a conversation during the fight and he could feel Lioriel wasn’t done with just the appreciation.

“Try not to kill them if you can.” Lioriel said, not even able to meet his gaze as she made her request.

Anger rolled through Aranor and the elf made no effort to stop the emotion from filling his voice as he figured out what had happened. “The former king sanctioned this.” Aranor sneered at Lioriel. “And you want me to try and preserve the young talented elves he sent to do his dirty work.”

Despite the anger coursing through him, Aranor's fighting style didn’t change. He had long ago learnt that anger didn’t make you stronger regardless of how much it felt like it would. More than that however he had also changed where he was aiming his spells, he knew that his anger was only tangentially targeted at the people he was fighting now and most of it was reserved for the former king.

With Aranor’s change in focus the sounds that dominated the battlefield had also changed. Whereas before the sound of spells being thrown dominated the background of clashing metal it now all took a backseat to the whimpering, crying and anguish filled cries. Aranor was no longer trying to kill the attacker, he was instead trying to inflict as much pain as he could while debilitating them.

“Did you learn?” Aranor asked coldly as he put as much pressure as he could to stop the bleeding he himself had caused on the final attacker that remained. The bandages he was using to stop the bleeding were special in that not only were they enchanted to help stop bleeding but they also nullified any Common rank pain resistance skill in the area they covered.

“Yes, yes!” the attacker said as he tried to rip his hand away from Aranor’s iron grip. “Go after the last one!” the elf tried anything to get him to let go.

“The last one?” Aranor made a show of looking around what was left of the ruins around the inn where all the other combatants were strewn about in a similar situation to the one he was holding. Aranor was thankful that whoever was behind this at least had the good sense to evacuate the civilians so there were no innocent casualties.

“She was meant to kidnap the Manashaper girl while we distracted you.” The elf howled as the pressure exerted as he tried to pull his hand free from Aranor increased the pain.

Aranor didn’t even have enough time to process the information as he felt a large amount of mana coming from the inn behind him before a body crashed into the street no more than three feet away from him showering both him and his captive with rubble and dust.

Unlike the other eight attackers this one was different. The initial difference was that she wasn’t wearing the black outfit but instead was dressed like one of the maids at the inn, the other more important difference was that unlike the punishing way in which the attackers were handled she wasn’t given the same care.

“Marycell!” one of the other attackers cried out as he laid eyes on what was left of the elf.

The maid uniform was all covered in blood and the elf in it was just as unrecognizable. Her skull and fave were both caved in and her torso mangled by straight cuts that went four inches deep going in all directions and crossing each other over her heart.

Looking in the direction she came flying from Aranor could see the prince in his armor standing behind a broken window and looking down, some of his runes still glowing slightly from the mana he had just pushed through them. In his right hand the prince held a sword that despite having just carved through a person didn’t have a drop of blood on it, his left gauntlet however had blood dripping from the clenched fingers.

“Why?” Lioriel couldn’t help but ask, slightly shocked at the sudden turn in the narrative. With Aranor’s help they had managed to cleanly capture all the attackers.

“Former king Swiftleaf isn’t the only one who was looking to send a message tonight.” Aranor said, much to Lioriel surprise the elven champion’s voice held no sympathy for the talented elf that had died.