The Birth of a Hero (3)

Support my main contracted novel and winner of Writing Prompts #26 - The Legendary Mage!

Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn!

https://www.webnovel.com/book/12013957905760805/Desolate-Mage%3A-A-Legend-Reborn!

* * * * *

Sam was sweating.

She was in pain all over, bruised and nicked, bleeding from multiple small wounds.

But that was not why she was sweating. She was sweating because she was scared and relieved.

Scared as she almost lashed out with full power against a fellow student. Relieved as she managed to rein in her bloodlust before anything happened.

Despite enjoying the challenge of the spar; Sam was also frustrated. Her hands were tied down during this whole spar, as she had to time and time again override her instincts that would move her to strike Reeve's vital points in swift killing blows.

That led to her constantly hesitating and unable to move smoothly.

She'd taken this opportunity to instead sharpen her techniques and the footwork grandpa taught her. But once Reeve used his skills, even the footwork grandpa taught couldn't break her out of the situation - it felt like Reeve could read her every move.

And when Reeve had struck her into the air and was about to launch his sword skill; she had lost control of her bloodlust and instincts. Or nearly lost control; she managed to recover her rationality in the nick of time.

Now she was hesitant. How was she to win against Reeve? His combat techniques and control were already impeccable - he probably had a high combat multiplier just with that alone. If it were just that, she could still put up a fight. But when he triggered his skills, she was helpless.

Then she had an idea.

(What if I...?)

But before she could complete the thought, Reeve had dashed forward again; once more with his doubled speed and strength.

She took a stance again, her right foot about one and a half steps in front of her left, pointing forward; while she leaned her weight on her left foot that was angled diagonally to the left. Her right hand was extended forward in an open palm, parallel and above her right foot; and her open left hand was tucked just beneath her chest.

"This again! Don't you know it won't work?" Reeve executed a circular rising slash which she gracefully avoided by circling to his blind spot on his right. As if he were waiting for it, Reeve launched a vicious left back kick straight where her trajectory was bringing her.

Then she forcefully cancelled her circular steps by absorbing the inertia with her wire-like muscles; and slammed a colossal right hook into his still-turning face. Groggy, spinning and reeling from the unexpected counter; Reeve couldn't react before she grabbed his tunic and pulled him back into a right-left hook combo; then seamless knocked him spinning once more with a turning left kick to the side of his head.

As he stumbled backwards 5 steps and struggled to orient himself; she sprung herself forward to close the distance for the finisher - a spinning axe kick aimed at the top of his head.

(No... I, I can't lose like this...)

He roared in unwillingness as the curtains of this spar drew to an inevitable close.

Time stopped for Reeve.

* * * * *

In the midst of my despair, something changed in me - a desire to defy and reverse even the foregone outcome painted before my eyes.

I felt like the world started moving in slow motion - as I desperately screamed at my body to wake up and defend against the imminent crushing death-blow, Samuel froze in mid-air, mid-spin; his back facing me before he unleashed his finishing blow.

It was like an illusion - was time really slowing down? Or was I just moving faster and faster, to a place beyond the mind and senses?

I felt my blood boiling and the essence in me erupting as something inside me awakened. My emptied mana pool was inundated with a veritable flood of power from all around me.

It was like watching myself in a dream; I stood up one foot at a time, my weakness and dizziness vanished like a bad dream. I turned to face the boy whose strike should have already landed; a great and mighty rival who pressed me to my limits; no, beyond what I thought were my limits.

It was right then that I could feel; no I could see a flow, like a line for my sword to trace across Samuel's body - as if the world itself were guiding my strike.

My sword rose from the dusty ground as I brandished it two handed; the long blade flowing along the river of light drawn across Samuel's body; from his lower back where his right kidney would be, to his left shoulder blade.

Then the whole world turned white in my eyes; my ears ringing as I remained in the posture of my upwards slash.

* * * * *

It seemed like I stood there for a whole minute; absorbing the epiphanic sensations and boiling energy flowing through my every cell.

I could hear a multitude of heavenly voices singing in my ears; like they were declaring the coming of a legend, a myth.

Then I heard a voice, drowning out every other sound until only silence reigned in this world of white.

In truth, it must have only been an instant, because when my vision cleared again, I saw Samuel being flung away towards the centre of the arena, drops of blood trailing behind him.

At that moment, I knew.

I had been reborn - as a hero.

* * * * *

"Is... Is it over...?" a boy asked to no-one in particular; still dumbstruck by the turnaround after turnaround in the close battle.

"I..." another boy began to speak, but was left unspeaking with his mouth hanging open - he didn't know how to continue.

With the battle's close; the audience were staring at the two boys in the ring; unable to move from where they stood. They began to murmur and discuss what happened in voices tinged with doubt, awe and admiration.

"It's... over?"

"What were those wings?"

"The flash of light... It was like a god's incarnation..."

"That last strike was too powerful!"

"Yeah, I bet it would split even a house apart. I'm surprised Samuel wasn't cut in half!"

"Samuel?"

Then the children cried out in alarm as they realised that Samuel could be on the brink of death at that very moment; as he lay face down and still in the pool of his own blood.

"!!!"

Before they could rush over, before anyone could take even a step towards the arena; they were frozen where they stood. Because the boy who should be dead or with a foot in the grave had risen to his feet.

* * * * *

(The manifestation of a Hero's awakening huh... What a strange time to awaken and demonstrate a heroic feat...)

Mikael was stressed. Very very stressed.

He had intended to stop the match when he saw Reeve first draw blood - but his curiosity and thirst for unearthing talents had prevailed against his wisdom. That and a niggling sense that there was more than meets the eye to the other boy.

Just then, the bastard Nadal came with an official summons from the Principal. "Don't worry - I'll keep deaths to a minimum." The despicable man had said, filling Mikael with disgust.

With a *harumph*, their class teacher had stormed off, but not before handing over control of the emergency protection formation to the replacement invigilator.

The Principal's office was at the other end of the sprawling academy grounds, where various board and executive meeting rooms were located - presumably to minimise noise from spars and training.

"Board room 2, third door on your right. Straight down the corridor." The Principal's ice-cold assistant did not even bat an eyelid, informing him without missing a beat on her paperwork.

His gaze moved to the side she had indicated, and he saw that the third rooms door was slightly ajar; hushed voices barely audible from where he stood. Shutting the heavy wooden double doors behind him, he paced over and stood before the door. He knocked twice and waited.

"Mikael! Come in, come in." The Principal was surprisingly not seated at the head or the seat at the right hand of the head of the table; showing that at least two of his guests outranked him.

As Mikael entered, he moved to sit in a chair where the Principal motioned him to, 2 seats to his left.

"These are our distinguished guests from Rome, Marquis Trenel and his son, Baron Novius." The two guests glanced at him, with only the younger man smiling and nodding at Mikael. "They are here to--"

They were interrupted by a sense of time and space distorting. From the intensity, it was nearby, less than 10km away. And from the fact that it was for merely a tick of a second hand on a clock, it was someone young, someone who had just awakened the potential to be a legend.

Mikael was cursing internally. He had missed such an important event. He maintained a cordial and friendly smile on his face, not betraying his inner monologue.

"Principal Snow, looks like you have some very... Intriguing students enrolled in your academy, no...?" The intent in Marquis Trenel's words was crystal clear.

The Principal smiled warmly, playing perfectly his role as an amicable host. "Yes, yes! We can take a look at the children's spars and simultaneously bring the young Baron for a tour - mayhaps he will like what he sees and gain greater confidence in our graduates. Let's depart to the training field, I'll introduce you to some of our top students." With that, he stood up and invited them to move to the training field and observe the source of the disturbance.