A day had come and passed since Xeris's encounter at the library. The girls had come back to him and agreed; however, Xeris explained that the price had gone up, and he now needed at least 25% of their allowance.
Of course, they were upset. They explained that he never said the price was going to go up. Xeris told them that they did not have to buy from him, and if they did not like the price, they could go somewhere else.
After some discussion, they agreed.
Xeris explained the details of their agreement. For the portion of their allowance that Xeris receives, the same percentage determines how long they get the book per day. So, because each of them pays Xeris 25% of their allowance, they get the book for 25% of the week.
He explained that this meant they each have possession of the book for six hours per day, forty-two per week.
This made them happy; they felt that neither of them would likely need the book for more than six hours a day anyway.
Finally, he told them that the book would remain in his room from 10 pm to 10 am each night, and that at any other time, they would be free to use it.
Both parties were satisfied with the deal. They each paid Xeris 25 Crescents, and he handed over the book.
Xeris left, heading towards his room to deposit his first earnings. He had successfully increased his earnings in this arrangement. But why? Why was Xeris focused on this?
The answer was simple: money allowed one to maximize their benefits and opportunities. Xeris did not care about money; he cared about what he could get from it.
It was better to prepare. There would be opportunities in the future, when they came, Xeris wanted to be ready.
Xeris continued to walk but felt a buzzing vibration in his feet. He stopped moving.
The pattern was inconsistent, but rapid and unpredictable.
He followed the vibrational feeling, and before long, he understood. He approached a large group that was gathered in the hall of the night-aligned wing. These were not students; the group that gathered here was largely instructors.
He overheard some conversations as he continued walking.
Ah, so the instructors are having a tournament to determine their standing.
On the second floor of the institution's wing, night-aligned instructors were engaging in one-on-one battles, while on the other wing, Day-aligned instructors did the same.
Xeris was on the night-aligned side and had found his World Understanding; Instructor Dorian was seated, awaiting his match.
More and more students arrived.
The second floors of each wing were windowless training halls – built for impact. Rank 2 instructors fought in this tournament for order of precedence; access and authority followed rank. The age requirement was a minimum of thirty, Rank 2 Refined Stage, and passing the teaching exam.
People were gathered on the walls of the training room, standing and waiting to watch or fight. Xeris remained at the door.
Two names were called out: "Instructor Dorian, please step forward… also, Instructor Veylor, please step forward."
Instructor Veylor was someone Xeris had not seen before; he was much younger than Instructor Dorian, and it appeared that he was around the age of 30.
Instructor Dorian should have more experience, given his age difference; it appears he has at least 10 years on him. I have no way of predicting the strength of either of these individuals. I hope to learn something.
Each of the Instructors stepped forward and bowed once.
"Begin!"
"Wisterial Veil!"
Dorian was instantly covered in a dark, luminous violet mist that quickly cleared, leaving a faint glow on his skin.
On the other side, Veylor did the same; however, his color was of a lighter hue.
Both instructors activated a Myr. However, neither of these Myr was an attack; they were defensive Myr.
Both paused for a moment before truly beginning.
Dorian made the first move, snapping his wrist violently toward Veylor. A black star tore through the air, creating a soft whistling sound.
Veylor's eyes were wide for a moment before he extended his palm towards the little star.
A loud sound was made as the little void star crashed into Veylor's hand, before it broke. As the pieces of the star fell, they were pulled quickly back towards Dorian.
There was only a small crack on the outer layer of Veylor's palm, but this was just the damage done to his Wisterial Veil.
Veylor laughed, a cocky smile had started forming on his lips.
A soft chime echoed through the hall.
"One point to Instructor Dorian," a voice announced.
Veylor froze mid-step, confusion breaking through his confidence. He looked at his unhurt hand, then toward the referee.
Xeris observed from the side.
So the match is won by points, which are awarded when you successfully land attacks on your opponent, regardless of whether one suffers any real damage.
It was clear that Veylor was new; he had not anticipated that he would give up a point so quickly. Now, however, his guard was truly up.
Each side attacked and dodged as the pace continued to increase. Both looked for an opening.
Veylors eyes flashed,
"There!" he thought
He had an opening, and instantly he attacked.
"Nightrill Myr!"
A small burst of violet light shot from Veylors hand, heading straight towards Instructor Dorian.
Veylor watched as the light was about to connect to Dorian's chest, and he felt his body begin to relax just a bit.
Dorian's glow thinned. His edges softened, turning almost glass-clear. The light washed through him without resistance.
The attack from the Nightrill Myr seemed to have passed through him.
The next second, Dorian had already made his counterattack, rushing forward.
Veylor, caught off guard, involuntarily took a step back, only to receive a strong palm to his forehead, sending him flying back.
Xeris was watching, feeling perplexed. He was sure he had watched the attack go through Dorian.
What Myr is this? Xeris thought.
Veylor hit the ground and coughed before jumping back to his feet.
There was an intense focus on his face as he stared at his opponent.
Another point was awarded to Instructor Dorian as they continued to fight. There had only been a split-second break from the moment Veylor was knocked down to when they had started going at it again.
Multiple false openings were spotted by Veylor this time, who was giving it his all.
But soon enough, another opening was presented.
"Now!"
Veylor seized the moment, charging forward straight at Dorian.
Xeris watched, feeling as though Veylor's decision was a rash one. It looked impulsive and not strategic. However,
Veylor had started his attack; it seemed to be a regular punch.
Dorian defended this with an offensive attack, Little Void Star Myr.
Little Void Star shot out toward Veylor; however, Veylor's veil thinned in the same glass-clear way. The star carved empty air. Surprise flickered across Dorian's face.
Veylor did not stop, moving past Dorian, pivoting quickly into his attack, sending Dorian backward.
He watched as if in slow motion as Dorian's body hit the ground. But as Dorian fell, Veylor was hit hard in the upper back. A small shockwave effect occurred as the impact was distributed throughout his body, and he fell forward.
He had been careless again, after landing his attack, Dorian's Little Void Star had never returned after he had missed it the first time. It arced wide and vanished behind Veylor's shoulder as he was focused on landing his attack.
Two tones sounded in quick succession. Final tally: three to one.
They clasped wrists. Veylor's smile was there, but his eyes were not. On the inside, Veylor was upset. His first match as an Instructor, and he hadn't just lost, he had barely put up a fight.
Xeris flipped a page; he had left immediately after the last blow had struck Veylor, ending the match.
Xeris's eyes narrowed.
I see, so that's what happened.
Veilstep Myr, a Rank 2 Myr that allows the cultivator to become intangible for a fraction of a second to avoid an attack.
He snapped the book shut and continued walking.
The more he was exposed to this, the more the subtle feeling of stress increased inside him. Xeris wanted strength; he felt he needed power.
My first step is in figuring out how to awaken my Aris.
He took one final look down at the black book that he had taken from the library before entering his room.