Striking Backward(1)

Prologue:

Erwind – the center of this imperial world, the capital of all who want to rise above commoners. Wherever you looked, the mountains hid behind themselves the largest arena for tournaments.

The evening sun slowly set behind the horizon, painting the sky in pink hues, clouds smoothly passing through the sky, listening to the crowds of shouting people.

Before the arena, there was human routine, numerous hearths for comfort, carriages transporting influential figures. But what was happening now, and why such a commotion?

Erwind was considered the kingdom where annual qualifying tournaments were held. Children fought among themselves for the right to enter prestigious academies, where they were taught by the most famous figures of this world.

Even the emperor watched as young men showed what they were capable of, even he felt the blood in his veins ignite, remembering his youth.

The gigantic arena, capable of seeming like a whole stadium to accommodate tens of thousands of people.

A huge magical screen showed fighters to everyone who sat farther away from the others; they could literally see everything that was happening in this qualifying match.

Erwind's Dragon Arena welcomed everyone with open arms; such an event could be seen only once, so that individual figures could choose their students.

This year there were over 83 teenagers with magical gifts; this year tested the patience of all people, as it was more productive than usual. Crowds sat in the stands, eagerly awaiting the start of the battle. Excitement filled the entire gigantic arena.

In just 3 minutes, the world selection of candidates for the best places in prestigious academies, where the most powerful figures would study, was supposed to begin.

All over the arena stood blue magical spotlights; with the coming of night, they became active, shooting their beams into the starry sky.

A jury of all directors watched the battles; all magical academies came to see the warriors who were about to conquer unexplored places.

—Welcome to the annual qualifying tournament! With you, I'm your favorite Kayla, tonight will be a hot night, so get ready and tighten your seats! — emphasized the hostess of this annual selection.

Wild ovations from the stands, shouts, and applause created the brightest emotions for everyone present in this place.

This was the annual selection, something that didn't happen every day, as noble families clashed here to get the most influential positions.

"Look, look, it's Vincent!"

Female screams filled the stadium; some people knew others long before the tournaments; they showed themselves everywhere they could.

—Oh my god!— a girl fainted right on the stands, falling onto her friend.

The eyes of all the people widened at that moment, as if they had found out that someone had given birth to 4 children in 5 seconds. They listened to the hostess in anticipation of a miracle; she held a magical microphone in her hand, capable of transmitting her voice everywhere.

Her raspberry costume hugged her slender body; green hair fluttered in the wind. Yes, there was something to look at; she represented the people's new defenders.

Kayla herself represented the Academy of the Blossoming Dragon, where people with a gift for sound were accepted.

It was a prestigious school. The hostess had the awakening of a silver dragon; she had medium potential in her abilities. Every year she conducted her broadcasts in this place, allowing her voice to break free so brightly, commenting on all the subsequent rules.

All cults can participate regardless of their bloodline. There are ten ranks of cult – Copper, Silver, Gold, Emerald, Amber, Turquoise, Sapphire, Ruby, Amethyst, Diamond. Each rank is divided into five awakenings.

— But only cultists whose strength ranges from 0 rank to Silver third awakening can participate. This is a qualifying tournament; too much strength superiority will hinder new faces from entering the academy. If you're ready, please proceed to the detection crystal, —the hostess raised her chin, indicating the huge crystal.

— As you already know, power is derived from your faith. By worshiping the cult, you can acquire various abilities, devoting yourself to this religion. I expect to see something new! Are you ready to witness these clashes?!— Kyra shouted, directing her microphone at the screaming faces of the people.

- "I can't hear your screams!" the girl joyfully shouted.

Excited screams filled the stadium; she nodded her head contentedly, smiling approvingly.

In the center of the arena was only one participant, as if in a trance. He stood in the midst of the other participants, they joyfully raised their hands up, turning to the people in the stands.

"Remember! No weapons during the exam, only your experience, magic, and the judgment of the directors. Using weapons equals disqualification!" — Kyra shouted, retreating into the shadows to show the next contenders.

"Just as I thought!" — the blonde with a single braid on her head arrogantly clicked her tongue. She held a huge hammer in her hand; her athletic body looked much more aesthetic than that of many men here. Her light armor covered her chest, showing only her stomach. She had been waiting for this selection all year.

The kids chattered incessantly among themselves, getting to know each other to learn their skills, weaknesses, and even make a few friends for future actions. They boasted about their families non-stop; each tried to outdo the other.

The blonde turned to the boy in the black suit. He stood next to her, three heads shorter, three years younger. The girl looked at the boy perplexedly; he stood next to her with his eyes closed, like a stone statue. The girl took him by the shoulder, squeezing him painfully.

"Ow!" the child winced, opening his eyes; his blood-red irises gleamed. He raised his head, looking at the blonde with a serious gaze.

"Harold, are you sleeping during the qualifiers? How pathetic of you..." — the girl snorted, turning away; she sighed heavily.

"What? I just..."— he looked around, his puzzled face hiding something, as if he had become someone else at that moment.

He looked at his clothes; suddenly something dawned on him.

He saw a tall girl in front of him, the qualifying tournament, the hustle and bustle. He remembered: he was now at the qualifying match, that very first match that changed his life.

The girl who pulled him was his older sister; she was a cultist of the Silver rank second awakening.

"It can't be! The Cult of the Turquoise Demon spell worked!"

Harold was puzzled; this thought shook him, just a moment ago he saw his own demise from the spell he used to save himself from the demonic lords.

Harold covered his mouth with his hand from sorrow; he had returned 120 years back to his fifteenth year. His entire past life, all his experience, left a big mark on his mind.

Harold saw his sister, young, alive. She dedicated her life to revenge; in the end, she gave her life protecting me.

"Now I'll protect you; don't do that anymore..." — he didn't want to hug her; he understood where he was. Under these circumstances, he shouldn't act recklessly.

He closed his eyes with his hand, tears welled up in his eyes; he wiped them, looking around. He saw all his acquaintances, sighing with relief.

At that time, his parents were still alive; he could make up for lost time. In the same row, he saw Kevin, his close friend; they had never been apart, he looked just the same.

He was 14 years old; he already knew the healing properties of all plants. Harold then didn't know how powerful he would become as a healer. Yes, Kevin didn't know how much he would change in the future, saving other people.

A friend, for eternal life, he was an ordinary person without a bloodline, and only at the age of 35, he was able to awaken the Cult of the Healing Ancestors' Goddess. It was such powerful magic that during the Dragon War, people erected a monument in his honor.

"Piece of shit, you're alive!" — he mentally rejoiced at seeing all his loved ones, people who defended the world from various disasters.

All the terrible things that were supposed to happen: the death of his parents at the hands of another clan, the release of Gordolor, the oldest dragon, the war began, which claimed many lives. Many counts were killed; only a handful of powerful people managed to escape, fleeing to tropical lands. But that wasn't all; all his relatives died a terrible death.

The only thing that could save them all was to become a cultist. All those cults at that time were useless; they didn't stand next to what Harold himself had seen in all his 120 years. Right now, he really didn't possess magic; he didn't stand a chance in this place. Only experience could decide whether they would take him further or if everything would repeat itself.

Harold saw the majestic Vincent Arnold, everyone considered him a hero; he was like King Arthur from ancient legends, majestic, courageous, honest. Only Harold's gaze darkened; he knew what others didn't. In his time, he would become a burden, a traitor, and a killer of hundreds of innocent people; he would do what shouldn't have happened.

"Bastard, I'll kill you myself when the time comes..." — he looked at this young, pompous bastard in his armor; he flaunted in front of the public, sending many kisses to beautiful girls, believing in everything and anything.

In his life, he saw a lot, traveled, even managed to awaken the weak Cult of the Sword Master in himself at the age of 70, fighting more than a hundred enemies. He wasn't a mage, but ingenuity, strength, and endurance helped him live so long. He lost his right hand in a battle with Viverna; he met many personalities, loved, and then lost her.

He saw many magical artifacts, races, and monsters; all he found was the "Spell of the Turquoise Demon," because it brought him back to the past.

"I'll avenge all of you for the suffering of others; you'll pay for this..." — he smiled at the crowds of people, awaiting the battle.

Harold belonged to the great Barl County; they were famous for their mighty power. The whole family embraced the power of the Cult of the Ifrits of the Stone Mountain. Each child had awakening at an early age of 12 for three copper ranks, from their early childhood.

Only Harold differed from this family; he still didn't possess any cult. Even the family cult rejected him, as it didn't feel any magical power in him. But he knew that now he had a way to become stronger, even to acquire his own cult, which would give him strength.

All the county faces knew about the Barl family; two offspring participated in this festival. The 16-year-old daughter of Gromgilda, who awakened her power at the age of 11, and the useless Harold Barl.

He didn't have power; he was forced to participate in this to be taken away by some academy. In the past, he lost to his opponent from the very first blow; no one accepted him.

Even his parents threw him out onto the street for a whole week, while their daughter studied at a decent academy, showing everyone her strength. Although her brother was a black spot in their family.

"Gromgilda, I believe in you, you're the strongest in our family," I said to her with a smile on my face.

The girl never smiled; she knew her brother like the back of her hand. She knew about his incompetence, even considered him pathetic trash.

Yet, when she glanced back, she looked at her brother with some warmth inside.

"You're strange, only realizing it now?" — Gromgilda turned to the crowd, teasing her brother, smiling weakly.

Her brother hardly ever talked to her; now was a chance to get to know her better. She tried to belittle little Harold with her words, but it didn't affect him; he had lived enough to understand other people.

"No, I just believe in you. You're so strong; I can imagine you among the ranks of warriors from a cool academy," Harold said with a smile, teasing the girl.

"Are you joking? Or did you really decide to speak so nicely about me right now?" — Gromgilda weekly smiled, raising her left eyebrow in confusion.

Harold chuckled lightly, looking around; the spotlights came on, illuminating the arena. People slowly approached the stone to show their rank and start the competition.

___

*Terms*

Erwind - County, the capital in the center of the world, where the annual qualifying tournament for candidates to prestigious academies takes place, from aristocrats to commoners.

Erwind Dragon Arena - a place where gladiatorial fights are held, also once a year there is a qualifying tournament among teenagers.

Academy of the Blossoming Dragon - located north of Erwind, not everyone is accepted there, they respect people who possess the gift of sound and nature magic.

Cult - a term denoting worship or a magical faction to which a person belongs. In turn, the cult bestows skills that a person can use.

Worship - by worshiping your cult, you can receive a gift given by a spiritual avatar with whom you have a contract.

Gift - an ability, skill, or weapon that can be obtained from a spiritual avatar by approving it with your own power.

Spiritual Avatar - a god, demon, or other creature. By entering into a contract in a pentagram, a person can summon one of the avatars of an ancient soul belonging to one of the cults. By concluding a contract with them, they can approve or reject you.

Avatar Rejection - a rejected avatar will not be subject to control; too powerful an avatar can consume a person, killing their soul. For such cases, you can create a contract based on the rules of both sides.

One-Sided Rules - you cannot violate the rules established by the avatar; otherwise, the spirit disappears forever.

Two-Sided Rules - mutual exchange of rules; by concluding them, neither side can violate them, otherwise, the spirit and the person die forever.

Free Rule - you can make the spirit free, but this does not guarantee that it will be loyal to you. It may escape or not return to you at all.

Cult of the Turquoise Demon - ???

Spells of the Turquoise Demon Cult - ???