Chapter 47: Light Sparring II
The world turned a blinding, violent shade of amethyst.
Godric barely had a fraction of a second to react.
Instincts took over as Blackpearl flashed upward.
The dark, lustrous blade sliced through the air in a desperate arc, meeting the tidal wave of crackling lightning head-on.
The weapon answered with a deep, sullen vibration.
There wasn’t an ability the weapon couldn’t deflect. And this time was no different.
The main brunt of the discharge sheared harmlessly against the dark steel, parting around the narrow wake of the blade. But a sword was only so wide. Godric could not protect everything, and the residual current lashed violently into the rest of his body.
Searing pain ripped across his legs, shoulders, and forearms.
Gritting his teeth until they threatened to splinter, Godric held his ground. He did not retreat. He simply endured the agonising shock, waiting for the briefest flicker of opportunity when the attack ran dry.
Raven’s beast was terrifyingly sharp.
Skybreaker reacted almost instantly. The moment the discharge faded, its four radiant wings snapped back, pivoting mid-air to pull away and rebuild the distance.
It was a fraction of a second too late.
Using the blinding flash and the lingering curtain of violet light as cover, Godric was already moving. He burst forward, closing the gap before the avian beast could gain enough altitude.
He thrust Blackpearl with everything he had left.
The dark tip drove deep, catching the creature mid-pivot and tearing a jagged wound across its flank. A spray of black blood streaked heavily against the scorched concrete below.
Skybreaker shrieked in pain, the blue-white arcs around its talons sputtering violently from the blow.
Yet despite the injury, the beast didn’t fall. It rolled with the momentum, beat its radiant wings against the air, and wheeled wide. Circling overhead once more, its predatory eyes locked onto Godric.
Seeing the newfound fury in the beast’s eyes, Godric shifted his stance, readying to counter anything it had to offer.
But before the duel could come to an end, the beast suddenly flew back and landed slowly beside Raven.
"That’s enough," Raven said, studying the injuries across her beast and Godric. "You and Skybreaker sustained enough injuries for a day..."
Dismissing her summon, Raven walked toward Godric, whose legs, shoulders, and arms were all scorched, along with his brand-new uniform he managed to wear for the whole two hours.
"I’m sorry about the uniform," Raven said.
Godric waved it off.
Realising he should’ve probably changed for the sparring, he couldn’t truly blame her.
What did surprise him, however, was the damage itself.
Godric glanced down at the burns covering his arms before looking back at Skybreaker.
He had watched it spar before, against a tier 4 opponent. And even back then, the beast wasn’t this fast or ferocious.
"You reached the fourth tier," he said.
"I did." Raven nodded, looking at Skybreaker. "I was already close before the dungeon gate, so after coming back and using all the fragments, I finally reached it."
Then, her gaze turned back to Godric, who already seemed to be faring fine, despite visible injuries.
"What’s gotten into you, anyway? Why did you wanna spar all of a sudden?"
"I thought it’d be good to get some workout before the tournament."
Raven raised a brow. "You know about the tournament? Wait. You’re participating?"
"Why wouldn’t I? Don’t tell me Heiress of House Stormbourne is scared of more competition."
"Scared?" Raven scoffed, crossing her arms. "Please. You’re lucky I went easy on you just now."
"Easy?" Godric’s gaze moved toward the black trail of blood across the floor. "I don’t think Skybreaker would agree."
Raven looked at him in silence for a moment before narrowing her gaze. "You’re plotting something, aren’t you?"
Godric shrugged, already moving toward the exit. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"Hey!" Raven called after him, prompting him to stop just before the doorway. "Don’t forget you owe me a bubble tea!"
Turning around to face her, Godric frowned. "Me? Who said I lost? You’re the one who called off the duel."
The girl pondered for a second, then shrugged. "Okay. I’ll pay. How about this afternoon?"
Godric looked at her for a moment.
’She doesn’t care who pays? Why did she make the bet in the first place?’
"I’m busy. Maybe next time."
With that, Godric stepped out of the training room.
As much as he wanted to continue this ’lovely’ conversation with Raven, he had other matters to take care of.
The tournament was approaching, after all, and that spar had reminded him of one particularly inconvenient problem.
Unlike others who will participate in the tournament using their beasts, Godric’s summon, or rather summons, are two swords, which gives him no choice but to face each beast by himself.
This puts him at greater risk.
While the summoner’s strength and other attributes are increased with each tier, most beasts are more durable than humans by nature, so any even exchanges would work in favour of the beast.
That’s why he came up with an idea to mitigate it. Something that wouldn’t slow him down.
Armour.
One that would let him keep his flexibility while offering more protection than ordinary clothing.
Of course, he couldn’t afford enchanted armour right now.
It took a dozen craftsmen and a few dozen core fragments to make a single piece, making each of them one of the most expensive items in the world.
But... wouldn’t such an item count as a guild expense if worn by its leader?
Instead of going to the Black Market, where armour can be found, Godric went straight to the academy’s tailor shop, where the mad tailor was.
Looking for armour inside a tailor shop sounded ridiculous, but Godric had a hunch that the mad man running the shop could do more than just weave fabrics.
After all, the most prestigious academy wouldn’t hire just anyone.
When he stepped inside, the old artisan was rummaging through a crate of fabrics, muttering obscure curses under his breath as he threw everything he didn’t find good enough in the air.
Godric avoided a couple of falling pieces of fabric before announcing casually as he reached the doorframe: "I need a lightweight armour. You can put it on the director’s tab."
The tailor froze.
Slowly, his neck craned upward, his eyes widening in absolute horror at the charred, blackened tatters clinging to Godric’s torso.
"You... you wretched barbarian!" the man shrieked, scrambling over his crates in frantic despair. "No, no, no... What did you do? What did you do?!"