Vol.7 Ch.177- Bloody Roots.

Kaladin Shadowheart's POV.

Varnir utilized his wooden shield dungeon item in a unique way for the first time publicly. Many months ago, I casually questioned him why he used his shield's powers so straightforwardly. He answered, "That's how I've always done it." And my response was simple, "Try something different and practice it for the tournament."

I left the conversation at that. Either Varnir wouldn't be able to do anything differently because of the limitations of the shield, or he would come up with a new unique way to use his favorite weapon. It had been long enough that I nearly forgot about the conversation, as Varnir never brought it up again or asked for help.

But it seems he's come up with something interesting.

Turning the terrain into something that solely benefited the user was seldom a poor choice. Varnir had complete control over the bramble of roots he summoned forth and they consumed half of the available arena. They snaked over each other like an endless sea of living worms. It also seemed it simply cost a large portion of his mana upfront. A good trade if he can make use of this newfound advantage.

Vanir assaulted Sylvia from the comfort and protection of his veins for a time, but Sylvia was far too adept to be taken down by a lone root that had split from the pack or come from underneath her as she simply sliced them half or crushed them underfoot. Slight hints of frustration showed on Sylvia's face, and much to the surprise of the audience, she prepared herself for a leap.

Her legs physically grew in size and pulsed with power. She kicked off the stone floor with enough force to crack the ground beneath her as she leaped straight into the bramble.

If this were an ordinary person, a move like that would have been suicide. But Sylvia was very far removed from the word ordinary when it came to combat.

Confused, the crowd still shouted in joy and enthusiasm at the decision. Sylvia descended down, crushing wood with the sheer force of her landing. Her back, arms, and shoulders pulsed with power, and with a single swing of her silver estoc, she sliced dozens of roots away.

To many, it would have appeared she randomly jumped into the middle of enemy territory, but it was far more frightening to realize she had nearly pounced directly onto Varnir's head. Varnir was allowing the veins to carry him through the self-made forest to a safer location on the opposite side of the arena.

She couldn't see Varnir. That was impossible. It was also doubtful that she could hear him moving through the roots as the crowd of thousands of people was drowning that out. But like a shark that smelt fresh blood, Sylvia was on the chase.

Roots were blown away with sword and brute strength. It didn't matter if they came from her back, her side, below, or above. Sylvia was a machine that cut down every single attack that attempted to touch her with a weapon that was not even made for cutting.

With my Dragon eye, I tracked Varnir through the thicket and watched as he veered off and scooted through the perimeter. Suddenly, the roots reacted and, like a wave, attempted to crush Sylvia with sheer mass. But she continued on the hunt and jumped away from the mass, the roots collapsing in a heap behind her.

This cat-and-mouse game isn't going to go on for much longer…

Sylvia jumped straight toward Varnir and managed to land almost right in front of him. The crowd roared in response as Varnir was uncovered for the first time since the start of the match, and Sylvia didn't hesitate to thrust her sword at him. Roots positioned themselves to protect their summoner, but Sylvia burst through them with unbridled strength and power.

The tip of her sword hit the large clumpy mass of wood that was Varnir's shield and sent him flying backward. The roots retracted, and in most places, they simply died off as they were cut free from their source. Sylvia crushed and stepped over the remnants as Varnir bounced back up to his feet.

Sylvia may have surprised him by accurately hunting him down, but Varnir was not about to give up easily. Sylvia was faster and stronger than Varnir, but Varnir was bigger than her. His natural reach and the reach afforded to him by his weapon was more than Sylvia had. The Vampire struggled to best his spear and shield combo at first.

When Sylvia pressed forward and tried to knock the shield away with raw power, Varnir thrust a root spear at Sylvia, forcing her away. If she tried to trap the spear, Varnir would just send a fresh root from his shield to attack. It was an endless cycle, one that would favor Sylvia in the long run. Her stamina was leagues above Varnir's due to her Vampiric abilities coupled with her intense training.

Yet, Sylvia seemed to have improved her sword skills since the last time I saw her fight seriously. She took advantage of lapses in Varnir's defenses and managed to score shallow wounds on his exposed legs or arms. Her blade wasn't just brute strength but had finesse to it. One I hadn't seen since she hid her identity many years ago.

Sometimes, I need to remember Sylvia is highly skilled with the blade. If she didn't have the strength of an ancient Vampire, she would still be an expert swordswoman, albeit a very temperamental one at times. And it seems she has gotten even better.

But that was when I noticed some things before it happened. Varnir suddenly "slipped" on his own root and stumbled as Sylvia slashed his spear arm. It should have been impossible, yet perhaps Sylvia's relentless onslaught of attacks had finally weakened him. Sylvia stepped forward and into his reach. Her sword was poised to strike Varnir but he was ready. It was all part of his plan, or so it seemed.

Varnir moved his shield out of the way and tossed a leather bag straight at Sylvia. The bag was cut open, and its contents exploded out into a cloud, hitting Sylvia directly in the face. Sylvia recoiled from the substance and started coughing and sneezing. Tears dripped and snot down her face, and Varnir immediately thrust his spear at her.

Sylvia barely managed to block the spear, but Varnir leaned into the strike, using his shield to bash Sylvia. She rolled away from the hit, and a root sliced her leg while another pierced her calf. Sylvia was still coughing violently, unable to clear her eyes and airways from Varnir's surprise attack.

Varnir thrust his spear again at Sylvia's face, but she blocked it only for Varnir to sweep the blade across, taking a chunk from her nose. Sylvia sliced the root embedded in her calf and retreated as far back as a single hop could manage. The crowd let out a deafening roar at the display and called for more. Some wished for Sylvia's recovery, while others wanted her finished. It was a surprise to see that there was a split between the crowd.

But everyone watched on as Sylvia's wounds healed in real-time. For many, it would have been their first time witnessing a Vampire's healing firsthand. Unlike the power of light magic, Vampire healing was more…visceral and real. Her skin knitted and closed on its own. The flesh on her nose regrew and took shape.

I had witnessed it many times, but it was still surreal to see it. Some in the crowd recoiled away while others stood up or sat on the edge of their seats in pure fascination. It just went to show how different people could be.

Sylvia let out one giant sneeze, and a giant glob of blood that made a nosebleed seem paltry splattered on the ground. To anyone not paying attention, it wouldn't surprise them, considering what she just did to fix her nose. But I knew better.

She washed her sinuses out with blood… she can do that?

Sylvia's jaw clenched in frustration, and she glared at the charging and grinning Varnir with teary eyes. With another thrust of his spear, Varnir attempted to end the fight. But with movements that not even I could track from this distance, Sylvia grabbed the spear with her bare hand. Her arm had grown larger again, and she exerted enough force to kill Varnir's momentum entirely.

And in a show of raw strength, she bent the metal spear with a single dainty hand.

The crowd exploded.

And in a flash of a previous memory, I recalled Sylvia and Varnir's very first fight when we entered Forward University. It was the first day of school, and Sylvia had manhandled Varnir with her strength. Just like that time, Sylvia went to rip Varnir's shield from his arm, but unlike that time, Varnir fought back tooth and nail.

He let go of his spear shaft and punched Sylvia directly in the face. However, Sylvia didn't even flinch as her nose broke. Her nose was already healing by the time she grabbed his arm and yanked him closer to her.

The match quickly devolved into a close-quarters slugfest. Varnir would use his shield to bash Sylvia or would just punch and kick her. Sylvia took the hits, unflinching, and returned them in equal stride. It looked more like they were venting than fighting now.

Even as Sylvia's injuries healed and Varnir's became more severe, the two of them never gave up. It was a bloodbath, and it would end in a very clear way. Varnir was destined to lose the match. The odds were stacked against him, and Sylvia was a terrible opponent to face.

I truly believed that if Varnir fought Leopold again, he would have had a high chance of winning. I could have easily foreseen Varnir taking on challenger after challenger and making it very far in the tournament. That was just how much stronger he had gotten over the last few months.

But no matter how strong Varnir got…he would never be able to beat Sylvia.

Sylvia tossed Varnir over her shoulder, and her silvery-white blade appeared from thin air. The crowd cheered for the bloodbath as Sylvia pointed the sword at Varnir's throat. He let his head slump to the ground. Varnir passed out, and the announcer signaled Sylvia's victory.

I felt myself smiling and walked off to go change. There was another battle today, but I had no interest in seeing it. I would meet up with my family and return to the royal villa. Or perhaps there would be other plans.

The Praetorian Guards let me pass with a salute, and I quickly changed into comfortable clothing. I had just finished buttoning a teal-colored mana weave shirt my mother had made for me when someone knocked on my door.

I fed mana to my Dragon eye, and with soul sight, there was someone relatively strong waiting for me. Their soul seemed sturdy and unflinching, like a mountain, but it wasn't completely unfamiliar. I opened the door, and a man standing in slightly different golden Praetorian guard armor stood before me. The double-plated pauldrons shined in the torch light.

The gruff man stood tall like a trained soldier with his graying black beard and hair. His red cape bellowed behind him, a gladius strapped to his belt.

"Captain Fairchild? To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked the new leader of the royal guards.

A thin smile formed on his lips. "It's an honor to be recognized by the Dragonslayer. I would like to congratulate you on your overwhelming victory, Lord Shadowheart."

Lord? This man is treating me like a superior officer. But the fact is he is a higher-ranking noble than I am. And he is technically in a higher position of power in the knighthood.

Perhaps seeing my confusion, Captain Fairchild smiled wider. "I thought it would be a good time to introduce myself formally. My name is Alan Fairchild, and I am the recently appointed captain of the royal guards. It's a pleasure to speak with you, Lord Shadowheart," the man said politely and with a bow.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Captain Fairchild," I said with a returned bow.

The two of us raised from our bows, and in an awkward bout of silence, we stared into each other's eyes. I got a feeling that the new captain was here for something else. If he wanted to meet me personally, he had plenty of opportunities and didn't have to seek me out in private.

"Truth be told, I have also come here for a personal reason," he said as he took a knee in front of me and bowed deeply. "I am eternally grateful to you, Kaladin Shadowheart. Thank you for saving my family."

"Huh? I'm sorry…I'm unsure of what you mean, Captain Fairchild," I said hesitantly.

His overwhelming sincerity did not match his gruff, soldier-like appearance. The sudden deep bow on a knee was a maneuver of complete subservience. A noble and soldier of higher standing should not be doing such a thing.

"Of course. You might not know or be aware of it, or perhaps you don't even think about it anymore, but you have saved many lives. During the Dragon attack, you saved the lives of countless people," he said, his voice full of admiration.

He looked up at me with slightly wet eyes. "My mother, son, and sister were present at the incident. Your bravery saved them that day. Despite the loss of life…thank you for allowing me to selfishly wake up with a smile every day as I can still be a father, son, and brother. Thank you for saving my family."

It…feels good to know that I helped so many people. I mean, countless people lost their lives. Faces of those I passed on a daily basis. Mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters that would never see their family again…but I suppose it's better to think about the people I saved rather than the ones that were lost, huh?

"I appreciate the kind words, Captain Fairchild. But I was just doing what needed to be done," I said honestly.

He stood up slowly with a kind smile and extended his hand. "Humble as you are strong. Please continue to shine brightly as you do now, and know that many people are thankful for your assistance and effort, Kaladin Shadowheart. Even if they don't say it out loud."

I shook it and nodded in return. "I'll do my best."

"Are you leaving for the day? Please allow me to see you to the exit," he humbly requested.

"Sure, let's go," I said, agreeing to his request as I had no reason to deny it.

Captain Fairchild actually walked behind me like he would for the king or queen. I wasn't sure if that was his way of showing gratitude or if he had truly been so ingrained in the job he did it without thinking.

We got a few curious stares from teachers and staff, but arriving in the larger chamber that split off to the other school's areas didn't take long. And standing in the middle was a small statured man I hadn't seen in many, many years.

The Human man had aged gently in the years since I had last seen him. His black hair was cut short, and his mustache was trimmed neatly. He wore a black and orange military suit and uniform. A simple orange-painted pauldron sat on his shoulder with the symbol of Sandervile on it, a snake coiling around a chaff of wheat. His deep, nearly black eyes stared at me from behind glasses that had also grown in thickness.

Vice-Mayor Relud…Tristan's father.

And standing behind him was Sir Brill.

Both of them sent hateful, resentful glares my way. Their bloodlust was palpable, and if I were an ordinary student my age, I would have been pissing my pants in fear. A quick peek from my Dragon eye showed that, to my surprise, Vice-Mayor Relud was at the level of a War God. I had never heard that the Vice-Mayor boasted such prowess.

It was always Sir Bril who was the strongest in Sandervile. Yet here were two War God-level individuals, sending uncontrolled malice toward me. The students walking in the area around us paled and backed away to the corner of the rooms. Staff dropped boxes and let out small moans of pain.

What a coincidence. Why not answer the Queen's call and play the part? In response, I just smiled at them, utterly unfazed by their clear and open hostility.

That made their anger boil over even more. Sir Bril even put a hand to his sword and stepped toward me. But I wasn't alone like I was in Sandervile. I had friends and allies here in Luminar. Most of them were quite strong.

Despite the bloodlust and not being a War God himself, Commander Fairchild stepped forward and in front of me. He put a hand to his sword on his belt and met their gaze, unflinching in return. And behind us came a familiar voice, although it didn't sound very friendly today.

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Professor Garrison said in a cold tone as he stood next to Captain Fairchild.

"Leash your dog, Vice-Mayor. It is unbecoming of an adult and a noble to act in such a way in the presence of a student. I don't want to report this to Their Majesties," Captain Fairchild warned.

"I wasn't aware that the hero of the continent needed protecting," Vice-Mayor Relud said with a huff, their bloodlust disappearing instantly. "Let us be going, Sir Brill. We have better things to do than interact with a criminal."

Tristan…why is your father here but not you? Why haven't I seen you yet?

The two of them walked out of the stadium, and Captain Fairchild let out a deep sigh as he looked at me. "Tell the queen to look into Relud's descendants for me. She will understand," I asked.

"I'll relay the message," Captain Fairchild said with a short bow as he left.

Professor Garrison raised an eyebrow at the display, but I just chuckled. "He is very kind."

"Not the Alan Fairchild I know…did you do something to him?" Professor Garrison asked hesitantly.

"Why are you making it out like I threatened the man?" I questioned.

Professor Garrison smiled wryly and shrugged. "I wouldn't do that to an ally. Besides, he came to me and thanked me for saving his family during the Dragon attack."

Gears seemingly clicked in Professor Garrison's head as he nodded his head in understanding. "That makes sense…not even a stubborn and rude man like him could treat the savior of his family any other way than with reverence and admiration."

"Do you know the captain well?" I asked.

The professor crossed his arms. "I do. He was my training officer during my time in the legion. He also vehemently opposed my War God appointment at the time."

"I see. Maybe he cared about you? You know, not everyone views a higher position in war as a good thing. Even if you earned or deserved it," I offered in explanation.

"Maybe…it didn't feel like that at the time. But looking back, I suppose I can sort of see that as a possibility," Professor Garrison said reluctantly.

Mmm, I don't think Captain Fairchild is such a bad guy. I've seen plenty of terrible people in positions of power, and he isn't one of them. He seems kinder than he lets on.