"Under my wing?" Alaris asked in surprise.
Both Skullius and Silrat hadn't expected this either.
Well, Silrat had been thinking about how to make something like that work since having Skullius learn the ridiculous swordsmanship Alaris was known for would make him atrociously powerful.
This was inspired by him now knowing that Skullius wasn't a Mage at all!
Thank goodness once again for the correction!
"Yes. Why don't you try it? If I didn't have several talents I'm training myself, I would ask if this young man wanted to learn under me as well," Onarmont said with a wink to Skullius. "And to be fair, stealing someone from right under you would be underhanded."
The Hybrid Luman cringed a bit.
He wasn't used to such things – winks and the sort.
Alaris wore conflict on his visage.
"I've never been interested in teaching. It's just not in me," he said.
He seemed to take Onarmont's words rather seriously, considering he wasn't being forced or anything.
The velvet haired woman laughed.
"You've earned legends that you've hidden. You've learned skills that you buried, letting them accumulate mortal rust. What exactly do you think life is for? If you're not interested in them, pass them off to someone else. Let them do something with them," Onarmont said with a light punch to Alaris' shoulder.
"You're not getting a younger and even if you reach my Stage and gain a vastly longer life, you'll discover that age will creep in still, eating away at everything you are."
These words gave the entity known as time a fearsome name.
It was one of the monsters that chased some of the more power hungry experts, making them claw and hunt for power beyond the normal mortal bounds.
Power at the level of Divinity and beyond.
Yes.
With that, even time would hesitate to sink its fangs.
Alaris was not at this stage yet but these words that he thought were a substance he knew already as a master of a craft, hit harder when said by someone superior.
Perhaps the solitary and lonely lifestyle he had resigned himself to where he was satisfied as a watcher was killing him silently.
Maybe...
Why had he decided to shut off himself from the world again?
Alaris couldn't say he actually remembered?
Was the burden of having a reputation, one known so far and wide, scary?
If it fell... where would that put him then?
Wouldn't he end up right where he was now?
Alaris debated in his mind briefly over what it was that caused him to sink into this life but soon, he found himself laughing self-mockingly.
Onarmont smiled.
"Your heart still isn't settled, is it?" she asked.
"Apparently not. However, I will consider your words. I just might change," Alaris said with a strange glint in his eye.
He then looked to Skullius.
"Give me your sword."
"Hmm?' the Hybrid Luman questioned this request.
"I will not give you false hope but for now, give me that sword of yours. You can't dance as you did yesterday if it breaks. I would like to spar with you some more, that's a guarantee, but I can't stand to see that green sword suffer any longer. You need it," Alaris explained.
Oh.
He wanted to get the sword fixed?
Yesterday, Skullius had followed Silrat's plan during the re-evaluation.
He had used Demion's Dance and the [Swindling Death's Dance] as his primary form of attack.
He had shown bits of it during his first evaluation but this time, he went all out, the graceful but erratic movements of the actual sword dance that he hadn't used since his fight with Bassbion causing no small amount of surprise in Alaris.
This definitely wasn't the last time these two would exchange blows with the sword and that was an exciting prospect but...
Silrat nudged Skullius, knowing that he was hesitant to part with the sword. His trusty nature wouldn't be extended to all freely after all, even to Alaris especially where Demion's Dance was concerned.
The Hybrid Luman reluctantly retrieved his sword from storage and passed it to Alaris who handled it with great care.
When it reached his hand however, the green blade seemed to lose all its presence, as if all the vibrance it had only existed when it was in Skullius' hands.
'A Unique grade weapon like this is bound to someone?' Alaris wondered as he caressed the sword's cracked edges and surface. 'Interesting...'
"Do you plan on having the man who forged that hateful sword of yours repair it?" Onarmont asked with a playful smile, this one question causing Alaris to shiver uncomfortably.
"Never!" Alaris hissed. "I got away with it once and that's enough for me. I know a good enough blacksmith who can do a great job at mending it to perfection. That's enough."
Onarmont chuckled.
"See me off, would you?" she said as she pulled Alaris down the stairs to lower floors.
Skullius solemnly grimaced as Demion's Dance was sucked into a foreign storage. It was strange to not have his sword around. Hopefully it came back safely.
It was coming back, right?
"Relax. It will be fine. I doubt Alaris has the courage to harm or betray even swords. He values swordsmanship that much," Silrat comforted.
"You're right," Skullius finally relented.
He breathed out one big breath for good measure and calmed down.
"Since this is all done now, shall we get on with the other plans? There's no time to waste."
"Yes. Someone I know is working really hard out there. I better get to work too as we discussed," Skullius said, referring to Replicus whom he knew was probably doing some heavy grinding, growing his strength immensely!
He had his own tasks to speed run.
Accomplishing as many Tasks as possible.
Absorbing as many Enriching gems as possible.
Fusing as many skills as possible.
Taking on as many exclusive missions as possible.
Upgrading as many skills and stats as possible with [Unbound].
All this had been properly arranged in a marvellous sequence by Skullius and Silrat to ensure that the Hybrid Luman would grow freakishly strong in the next few weeks now that the main disturbances were done with.
A grind was on the horizon and Silrat couldn't help but grin at what its results would bring.
***
Alaris accompanied Onarmont back to her residence within the city.
Soon, they had reached a large mansion where several men dressed in red armour welcomed Onarmont.
"I hope you make the right choice. I'm glad you're not power hungry but sometimes, it's a detriment. Reaching your full potential is not a bad thing," the velvet haired woman said as she kissed Alaris' cheek.
The evaluation officer smirked with a muffled breath.
"There's a lot of experts who have sought to reach their full potential. I personally don't like how they ended up. Is it wise to take up the sword again if fame and power are subject to time in the end? Even if I reach Divinity, what will have been the purpose?" he asked Onarmont who drew away slowly, backpedalling into her home.
"I for one, would like to see for myself how far man can break Divine rules. If they are too much..." Onarmont tapped on the shield on her back, "...I'm prepared to defend my ideals to the very end."
Alaris watched as the woman disappeared behind the door.
Power.
Legends.
Time.
He dreaded these things.
Apparently, there was a time where having such a lack of ambition meant death.
Alaris dreaded that time.
If he was alive during those days, he might have died meaninglessly.
Yet, a man similar to him had rammed past the fear as the motivation he had, valuing it more than his dread for concepts or... even the gods themselves drove to the edge.
To the brink.
To victory and to loss.
---
[Author's Note]
Short flashback arc incoming!
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