Shattered Sanity

Riven trained until late that night alongside Circuit, as the two destroyed every training sword Circuit had brought with him, leaving Riven considerably more confident in his ability to damage Gary’s weapon and potentially disarm him early in the fight.

Hufff... Hufff...

By the time they finally stopped, broken blades littered the training ground around them, while several wooden supports had been damaged so badly that Circuit suspected the missing swords would soon become the least of House Argent’s concerns.

Riven himself looked considerably worse.

Sweat had completely soaked through his training clothes, several fresh calluses had formed across his palms, and practically every muscle within his upper body ached after repeatedly swinging Sky-Cleaver against metal for hours.

Yet the improvement had been undeniable.

During his earliest attempts, Riven required several direct strikes before creating enough damage for Sky-Cleaver’s hook to properly catch against the opposing blade, while his transition into the disarming technique remained slow enough for an experienced swordsman to easily withdraw.

By nightfall, however, the entire sequence had become considerably smoother.

”This is it, My Lord. I think that if you manage to disarm him tomorrow, you have a very good chance of controlling the battle from that point onwards.”

Circuit explained, as Riven listened carefully while gradually catching his breath.

”Apart from his excellent swordsmanship, I believe Gary possesses a couple of different offensive Flame spells.

One is the common Fireball, while the second is something called Flame Spread, which is a considerably weaker spell that creates several smaller scattered flames across a wider area.”

Circuit informed him, as Riven nodded in understanding before a question immediately occurred to him.

”How recent is your information?”

Riven asked, as Circuit shook his head slightly.

”Not recent enough. It’s approximately three months outdated, and there’s a fair chance Gary could have improved considerably in the meantime.”

Circuit admitted, as Riven let out a deep sigh.

He had done everything he reasonably could to prepare for tomorrow’s battle, but despite finally possessing something resembling a proper strategy, victory still seemed like a distant prospect.

”My Lord, from what I remember, Gary’s Fireball is considerably more developed than anything most incoming First Years should be capable of producing.

It isn’t enormous, but a direct hit will burn you badly enough that your chances of continuing comfortably will disappear.”

Circuit explained, as he raised one of the damaged swords still remaining within his hand.

”However, Gary suffers from the same limitation as every other Ember Rank, which is his Aether capacity.

His Soul Vessel might be excellent, but it still isn’t bottomless, and every serious spell he casts will consume a meaningful portion of what he possesses.

From what I saw during the Ironveil exhibition, I doubt Gary can produce more than two or three serious Fireballs before exhausting enough of his reserves that continuing to cast becomes increasingly difficult.”

Riven slowly nodded as he committed the information to memory.

”And Flame Spread?”

”Less expensive, but considerably less dangerous.”

Circuit replied.

”I don’t think he uses it primarily to injure people.

The flames spread across enough space that they’re useful for controlling where an opponent can move, which probably helps Gary force people into positions where his swordsmanship becomes more effective.”

Circuit paused briefly.

”That’s the part we need to avoid.”

Riven looked towards Sky-Cleaver as Gary’s fighting style gradually became clearer within his mind.

His sword remained at the center of everything.

Light disrupted his opponent’s vision, Flame increased the danger behind every exchange, Flame Spread restricted movement, while Fireball provided a powerful ranged option whenever an opponent attempted to create distance.

Every ability ultimately made it easier for Gary to dictate the engagement around the weapon he had spent years learning to wield.

Which only made removing that weapon considerably more important.

”I think our best play is that once his sword is gone, we don’t give him the opportunity to dictate the distance between you.”

Circuit continued.

”That’s where your halberd becomes particularly useful.

You possess considerably greater reach, while Gary suddenly has to worry about getting past Sky-Cleaver’s blade before he can meaningfully attack you.”

Riven nodded thoughtfully before immediately recognizing the remaining problem.

”There is still the Fireball.”

He muttered, as Circuit nodded in agreement.

”Yes, there is still the Fireball, and unfortunately, we don’t really have a solution for it.”

Circuit admitted, as he glanced towards Sky-Cleaver resting within Riven’s hands.

”Traditionally, if you were still using a one-handed sword, you could perhaps enter the fight carrying a shield and use it to block the Fireball.

But since Sky-Cleaver requires both hands to wield effectively, carrying a shield would interfere with practically everything you’ve spent the last two days learning.

And since you don’t know any defensive spells capable of blocking the attack either, your only realistic option is to dodge whenever he casts one.”

Circuit explained, as Riven nodded before releasing another exhausted sigh.

”Well, I suppose we’ve prepared everything we can.”

Riven muttered, as he looked around at the broken swords scattered throughout the training ground.

”There’s no point worrying about something we can’t control.

The only thing I know for certain is that if I manage to disarm Ironveil tomorrow, I’ll force the fight to go deep regardless of whether I get hit by a Fireball or not.

As long as it doesn’t kill me, I won’t quit.”

Circuit looked towards him in surprise, initially wondering whether Riven was simply making a confident declaration for the sake of maintaining appearances.

However, as he continued studying Riven’s face, there was no arrogance within his expression, nor even the faintest trace of hesitation that might suggest he was exaggerating.

He genuinely seemed to mean it.

’Well, everyone thinks they have a great tolerance for pain until they actually experience it.’

Circuit thought, as although he said nothing aloud, he found it extremely difficult to believe that Riven could take the full force of Gary’s Fireball and simply continue fighting afterward through sheer determination.

After all, there was an enormous difference between imagining yourself enduring unbearable pain and actually experiencing flames burning across your flesh while simultaneously attempting to continue fighting an opponent.

Perhaps Riven truly possessed that kind of tolerance.

Perhaps he didn’t.

Either way, Circuit saw little reason to challenge his Young Lord’s confidence on the night before the most important fight of his Academy life.

”Then I suppose we’re finished.”

Circuit eventually said, as he glanced around at the considerable destruction they had caused throughout the training ground.

”For tonight, at least.”

Riven replied, as he collapsed Sky-Cleaver back into its compact form before fastening the weapon securely around his waist.

The two gathered whatever equipment remained intact before finally leaving the training grounds behind, both of them exhausted after spending practically the entire day preparing for a battle neither could confidently predict.

Classes would begin early tomorrow morning, while the forty-eight-hour House trade window would officially close within only a few more hours, permanently finalizing the First Year rosters for all four Houses.

—--------

(House Aureate Dormitories)

Stacy lay silently upon the bed inside her new dormitory room, staring towards the ceiling while wondering how something supposedly designed to teach noble children modesty could possibly feel this comfortable.

The room itself was apparently considered simple by nobility standards, and throughout the evening, Stacy had already heard several children complaining about the mattresses, the limited furniture and the complete absence of servants.

Yet compared to anything she had experienced before arriving here, the place felt almost luxurious.

’I don’t know what those other noble kids were complaining about. This is the softest mattress I’ve ever slept on.’

Stacy thought, as she shifted slightly beneath the covers and felt her body sink comfortably into the mattress.

’I swear, some of these kids truly don’t understand what hardship actually means.’

She had slept on considerably worse during her months under military supervision, while everything before that had been even less comfortable during the earliest years of her life as a slave.

Compared to those memories, sleeping alone within a warm room upon a soft mattress hardly resembled hardship.

If anything, Stacy felt as though her entire body had melted into the bed.

Unfortunately, sleep still refused to find her.

Her thoughts continued wandering from one subject to another, although the first thing repeatedly returning to her mind was Mary.

Throughout the forty-eight-hour trade window, Stacy had tried practically everything available to convince House Aureate to somehow bring Mary over from House Argent.

But none of it had worked.

House Argent simply refused to negotiate over one of its top ten draft selections, while Stacy’s alternative suggestion that perhaps she could be transferred into Argent instead had been rejected almost as quickly.

For the foreseeable future, the two of them would remain in different Houses.

Then there was tomorrow.

Somewhere during the evening, practically everyone inside House Aureate had learned that Gary Ironveil would be fighting Riven Dawnriver immediately after their first day of classes, and it was an event that Stacy desperately wanted to watch.

However, unfortunately for her, wanting to watch and possessing the resources required to purchase admission were two very different things.

Several Aureate students had already agreed to sacrifice portions of their future food allowances in exchange for admission, with some apparently accepting half-rations for several weeks until the sacrificed portions amounted to the required admission.

However, Stacy refused to do the same.

Food was food.

Perhaps the noble children surrounding her could casually sacrifice half their rations because they had never experienced the possibility of genuinely going hungry, but Stacy had absolutely no intention of voluntarily giving away something she had once struggled desperately to obtain.

No fight was worth that.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

’Man, I wish I was rich enough to give up food just to watch that fight like everyone else.’

Stacy thought, as she rolled onto her side and pulled the blanket slightly higher.

’If I went, I could finally see for myself whether Riven Dawnriver really is the same Riven Veyr I remember.’

The resemblance still bothered her.

Mary had been far more affected by seeing him, but even Stacy remembered enough about the quiet green-eyed boy from Ashfang to understand why her Big Sister struggled to dismiss the possibility completely.

Yet tomorrow, Gary Ironveil would fight him in front of hundreds of students.

If Stacy could somehow watch Riven move, fight and react under pressure, perhaps she could finally decide whether there was truly something familiar beneath that identical face.

But there was nothing she could do about it now.

’I guess I’ll never know.’

Stacy thought, as her eyelids finally began growing heavy.

’But perhaps Big Sister will.’

With that final thought lingering within her mind, Stacy gradually surrendered to the exhaustion that had been chasing her throughout the evening, as sleep finally claimed her.