A blinding light erupted from the book, slowly shrinking to fit the corresponding words that were being imprinted onto it.
Soon, on the end of that third day, the eve of the final assessment, a godly technique was inscribed onto the first page of the manifestation tome.
The words slowly stopped shining bright, leaving an elegant script that read the words: Inner World: Sanctuary.
Despite it being a technique, there were no words describing it beneath the name. Instead, the most complex array Dyon would have ever seen was inscribed below it.
If you looked closely, the array itself had shifting parts, it wasn’t frozen like the arrays Dyon had drawn till now. Each shift in gear, or line, resulted in a qualitative shift of the entire array. Resulting in an incomparably complex system of movement.
However, this was the only explanation to be had. The tome closed itself arrogantly, clasping its belt. It radiated a conceit that only paled to Dyon’s manifestation, almost as if to say: ‘You think I don’t have the right to name you? Fine, let’s see if you have the right to be my master.’
Dyon smiled in his sleep, unworried by the tome’s challenge. A demonic will emitted from him, causing the book to shudder. It seemed like Dyon’s confidence couldn’t be shaken by something to trivial.
Rhythmic breathing filled the room once again, as Dyon’s body went back to a regular temperature. Allowing him to truly rest for the first time.
What he didn’t know was that the radiant and revitalizing lights of the tome, had caused the bodies within Dyon’s ring to shift, ever so slightly.
**
That night, Elder Cormyth was looking towards his disciple with a large smile. Although he was only his master in name, the elder still took great pride in it.
“Your soul manifestation was so domineering – the words have still not disappeared. Anyone who tries to go near them is severely burnt,” Elder Cormyth’s boisterous laugh filled his office.
A quiet young man with grey skin and striking red eyes nodded slightly, his arrogance clear to all. His features had a devilish handsomeness to them that even matched Dyon, although his charisma was lacking. His hair was long and a striking black that reflected no light. His eyes seemed to pierce through the essence of everything as faint ripples of his soul shimmered around him.
Last night, he had manifested his soul after 16 years of trying. Finally, in his 21st year of life, he succeeded in manifesting his soul. The display was grand and unmatched.
This young man, Zaltarish Sigebryht of the Sigebryht major family, had all rights to be arrogant. He was an unmatched genius. Last year, being the year of his 21st birthday, had him just begin his path of energy cultivation, and yet, he was already at the middle tiers of meridian formation. His soul manifestation was so powerful that even with his talent, it took him 16 years to awaken.
Before the events of the past few days, no one had thought much of this. Although Zaltarish was without a doubt a genius. There had been many geniuses before him, and even geniuses currently that were doing the same things as him. However, although there were others who needed comparable amounts of time to awaken their manifestations, how many of them had destroyed the manifestation tome? Only he had.
To Zaltarish, this meant that his talent was so strong, that he took a manifestation that others would need dozens of years to awaken, and awakened it within 2 decades. He smiled to himself as he thought about how proud his emotionless father would be. He could finally help his father fulfill their ambitions. He’d marry the beautiful and seductive Mithrandir Norville, and the Sigebryht and Norville family would become the new royalty of the Elvin Kingdom.
The disgust the major families felt for the traditions of choosing monarchs had grown exponentially, especially with the disappearance of the king. To them, they worked hard as the backbone of the kingdom. It was they made sure the younger generation was trained. It was they made sure that other races and kingdoms didn’t dare attack them despite their relatively small population. It was they who sent their geniuses to lead campaigns at the Gates. For the kings of a kingdom they worked so hard for to have the chance to be from one of the 21 sub families, or even worse, a complete commoner, was a ridiculous concept to some of the major families.
Despite this, the tradition had continued on for millennia. Sometimes they would get lucky and birth a True Empath in their major families. But, as time passed, it was inevitable that a new king would have to be chosen. But, with the destruction of the Celestial Deer Sect, it was very much possible for that rule to be done away with. And now that Zaltarish had displayed his talents, the Sigebryht family would be first in line. .
Elder Cormyth nodded in satisfaction at Zaltarish’s domineeringness. Despite his accomplishments, the light in his eyes hadn’t lost their fire a single bit. 𝘪𝘳.𝘤𝑜
“The selection for the campaigns will be done by individual schools. In fact, Acacia Academy should be using their upper year assessment to do so as well. I think it’s time we made a bit of a power move,” Elder Cormyth said with a smile.
“Ai,” Zaltarish’s intelligent eyes flashed, “Master, invite the geniuses of our academy as well as Florence’s. Since the campaigns are meant for the glory of our kingdom, why not hold all of our selections together? Open it to the public. What’s an invent without spectators?”
Elder Cormyth didn’t seem to mind being ordered around by his supposed disciple, he was instead more than happy to send a message to each headmaster. Although Headmaster Acacia wasn’t too pleased at first, the face of a handsome boy flashed in his memories, causing a playful smile to grace his lips.
If Mathilde Academy wanted to play games, they’d be the first to lose.
Updated from 𝑖𝘦.𝒸𝘰𝘮