Cyrn stood over Thalen's body, unconscious and breathing softly.
Before the boy could bleed anymore, Professor Orde picked Thalen up and dropped him on the platform with the rest of the fatally injured bodies.
Soon, Cyrn saw a glowing script come to life from under Thalen, and his wound began to close at a pace visible, but still slower than his regeneration.
Professor Orde chimed in quickly, "A large-scale healing rune. I had it made for this class specifically. One kid usually panics, then it turns into a blood bath, so I had this bad boy made just in case."
Cyrn nodded his head, calculating the implications of this new form of SoulCurrent applications. Fuck my life, as if concepts and domains weren't hard enough, now there are runes! I need to ask Professor Lovell about this.
Before Cyrn could lament about the complexities of SoulCurrent any longer, Professor Orde chimed in, "Good job, boy, you came out on top…this time. Explain to me why you won against Thalen."
Cyrn looked up at his professor with confidence. "He was surprised by the destruction of his ice in my thigh, giving me an opening I capitalized on."
Professor Orde nodded, "Good, but let me warn you that surprise won't work twice. You may be the strongest in the class now, but if you don't keep pace with Thalen boy's training, you will lag."
Cyrn nodded, "I understand, professor, and I also have a question."
Orde nodded before Cyrn continued, "Who do you think the strongest is?"
Orde paused, then looked up at the sky before answering, "Historically, Cindral Dominions First King, Ashfield Farbridge Griffin I. The Cindral Dominion is the youngest of the nations on this continent. Being surrounded, Ashfield carved out the Cindral Dominion's first borders by hand. His tactical mind, battle strategy, and raw strength definitely make him the strongest by far. It also helps that he never lost a battle. However, the current strongest would have to be The Sword Saint Zacharias Blackwood, but I don't think he deserves the title."
Cyrn's brows furrowed at the statement "Why not?"
Professor Orde answered, "Take Ashfield. Even if every combat-oriented Soulwright at the time fought him at once, he wouldn't have lost. Zacharias, however, if the next three behind him grouped up to defeat him, he'd lose. That's not the strongest. That's the best duelist. Two different statements."
Cyrn nodded his head at the answer, then asked, "What made Ashfield's strength so overwhelming. I understand his tactical mind and battle IQ were insanely high, but what was his affinity, or his concept?"
Professor Orde chuckled, "No one actually knows, kid. The only writings that have survived from that time describe golden flames, similar to the DeBeaumont boy. But Elyon's potential far exceeded Ashfield's. It's only a matter of time before he becomes the strongest."
Cyrn's eyes widened in surprise, so El's not just strong. He might be the peak. No wonder everyone looks at him like a messiah — and no wonder he hates it.
And he isn't the first to have those golden flames. I wonder what they actually are?
"Thank you for the wisdom, Professor. I will be sure to remember it."
Professor Orde chuckled, "Don't mention it, kid, I am paid to do this after all. By the way, what's your name?"
"Cyrn, Sir."
"Cyrn, during our first outing, I'll reward you for winning the battle. Next class will be similar to this as well, but I'll be a bit more hands-on next time. See you Monday."
"See you Monday professor."
Cyrn walked off to his next class. Today's going to be a loooong day. Fuck.
Sword Technique theory flew by, mainly because Cyrn fell asleep.
He had signed up for this class, thinking that he could fill in any gaps in his knowledge about forming his sword technique on a theoretical level.
However, it seemed the endless nights Elyon spent talking his ear off about his own sword technique held a lot more information than he thought.
That class is effectively useless to me. El already forced way too much sword-related information into my brain. Plus, the professor's voice is so monotone, I should find a way to record those lectures and fall asleep to them.
Dusk was settling upon the rest of campus, and Cyrn had arrived at his final class of the day, SoulCurrent History.
Hopefully, this place will fill in the rest of the gaps in my knowledge about this world. I'm tired of bumbling around like I know nothing. Even though I do.
Cyrn walked into class and soon found a seat. The professor walked in mere moments later, thick glasses, gray beard, flowing robe. He looked like the most stereotypical Scholar you could imagine.
He looked around the class, then said, "Good evening, my name is Professor Watson Dandridge, but please call me Watson. I understand this is a late class, but here with me for the semester, I'll do my best to make sure you don't fall asleep."
"Now then, who is the strongest Soulwright in history?"
Cyrn's ears perked up. Finally, a question I can fucking answer.
Cyrn's hand shot up, and was quickly called on, "The first kind of the Cindral Dominion, sir. King Ashfield Farbridge Griffin I."
Watson nodded in agreement, "Excellent answer, young lad, and this doesn't come from a place of bias either, most everyone across the continent agrees that King Ashfield is the strongest to have ever lived."
The professor waved his hand, and soon a golden projection of what Cyrn assumed to be King Ashfield manifested above Watson's head.
"While there are no surviving paintings or records directly stating King Ashfield's appearance, this is what we've gathered from fringe sources."
Cyrn's eyebrow raised in confusion, then he raised his hand again. "Sir, why are there barely any surviving records of King Ashfield nowadays?"
The professor chuckled, "Hehe, while it is surprising to those who don't know, especially because the Cindral Dominion is a measly 1000 years old, with Ashfield ruling during its founding, compared to the several millennia every other country surrounding us had existed, almost no records of King Ashfield's time are accessible. His son and successor took every record he could find and buried them somewhere in Eir's Spine, never to be seen or heard of again. He died with the knowledge of where those records were buried."
Cyrn nodded, then followed up, "Why did he hide them so well?"
Watson shrugged, "No one knows. Many say that he was jealous of his father; others say he developed psychosis. Personally, I think there was a dire secret, one that would turn this world on its head, one that was deeply tied to King Ashfield, that his son needed to bury, to keep the world in order. But I have no proof, that's all speculation."
Cyrn nodded, and the professor continued with the lecture.
Watson seemed to have either light magic or something illusion-based, because every time he brought up a new point or period, he would have a matching construct floating above, it was even rotatable, and he often highlighted major structures.
It was easily Cyrn's most visually engaging class. The class started going over information about King Ashfield's son, King Ashfield II, and his reign over the Cindral Dominion.
Watson then ended the lecture with a question, "For Monday's class, I want everybody to have an answer to this question. Why has the Cindral Dominion survived for so long after King Ashfield I's reign?"
Cyrn left the classroom, pondering the question. As he walked past the door, a bright golden head of hair popped out immediately.
Cyrn looked over and saw Elyon; there was an interesting guest accompanying him. A boy with an equally bright ice-blue head of hair was standing right next to him. Thalen Fimblewinter was staring right at him.
Cyrn walked up to the two, and before he could question Elyon about Thalen, the man himself walked up to Cyrn, nearly chest to chest. "I lost, however, I swear to you there won't be a second time. The next time we battle, I'll maintain the dominance I had in the beginning."
Cyrn looked a tad surprised, then answered "Uhhh…sure?"
Thalen's face grew into a wide smile. "Excellent! It's good to be challenged by the people around you. Fighting allows for needed release, which you look like you need a lot of, hehe."
Thalen was poking Cyrn in the sternum as he was saying that, Cyrn thinking Release? What do I need release from?
"Whatever, why are you here?"
Elyon finally chimed in, "He's coming with. He had already heard about the fight club and was already planning on going, so I thought we could go together."
Cyrn looked at them, then shrugged his shoulders. "No sweat off my back, ready to head out?"
"Yeah."
"Yep."
Both responded, and soon, the possibly strongest freshman of Faraam Academy set forth to the slums of Aureth Veil.