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discovered it a day ago.” He chuckled and regarded him with kindly amusement. “I guess I should be a little sporting since I know your class and all, however much good that does me.” He gestured toward himself with his thumb. “My majestic falls into the constitution class—the one the scholar refers to as the ‘boring’ one.”

“I typically say basic to be more polite,” Zier interjected and beside him, Jazai sighed.

“Constitution is about pushing your Mana beyond the limits of normal Magic. You don’t get many of the special tricks of the other classes but you can use your natural talents in ways they couldn’t without decades of training.” He flexed his arms and the yellow light condensed even further to coat his entire body in a sheet of Mana. “In my majestic’s case, it can create armor tougher than almost any material out there, but don’t think it is only a shiny suit of armor.” He held one arm up and clenched his fist. Mana began to swirl around it. “With every physical strike you have given me so far, my majestic has absorbed some of that impact.”

Devol retreated a few steps and watched in astonishment as the man’s already large arms began to expand and grew even more substantial. “And I can take that force and use a little of it myself.” He swung his arm back as he took a massive step forward. “I hope you are ready for a demonstration.”

The boy raised his sword to guard as the Templar launched his fist forward. Even though he was several feet away, a force pounded into his blade, thumped the flat side into his chest, and hurled him back several feet and almost knocked the wind out of him. When he was able to touch the ground again, he tried to scrape his feet along the dirt to slow himself but was only able to lessen the impact slightly when he inevitably careened into the back wall of the arena.

Wulfsun placed his fists on his hips and laughed loudly. “Ha! You really came at me, boyo! I only added a little of my strength to that punch. Most of that was the energy you gave me. I recommend you try something a little different with your next attack. You’re beating yourself up here.”

“Would this be considered Wulfsun bullying the new kid?” Jazai asked as he leaned against the railing and frowned.

“He’s getting too into it,” Zier responded. “It’s not very surprising, of course. The boy has tremendous natural talent and shows advanced skill in swordsmanship for his age, but that won’t be enough for him to win against someone like Wulfsun.”

“Are you saying he has a chance otherwise?” the apprentice questioned with a furrowed brow.

The dryad shrugged, adjusted the cuffs of his robe, and brushed off some of the dirt that had been kicked up by the giant Templar’s assault. “Under normal circumstances, not a chance in the hells. Wulfsun is among the top warriors in the order, which would make him one of the top warriors in this realm and a good many of the others.”

“You have to be leading to a ‘but’ at some point,” Jazai remarked.

“However…” Zier began.

His apprentice rolled his eyes. “Cheeky bastard.”

“Devol’s majestic class is a perplexion, and since we don’t know what that exactly entails…well, I cannot say for certain if it is impossible.”

“Well, that is neat and all.” The boy looked at the young Magi, who had scrambled to his feet and now rubbed his left shoulder. “But he needs to use it for it to make a difference. And since he doesn’t know what it does and only learned about all this in general not too long ago, it is still a very tall order.”

“So do you think this is a pointless exercise?” the scholar asked and regarded him with interest.

Jazai smiled. “Not at all. I think it is exciting and want to get all the details right. It could make a fun story someday.”

“Humph.” Zier snorted and returned his focus to the arena. “You sound like you want to make a bet.”

The apprentice laughed, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed. What are you in for?”

“I won’t do your chores for you,” the dryad replied and smoothed the neckline of his robe. “Not again.”

“Dammit.”

“So, you coming at me again there, boy?” Wulfsun goaded, his fists clenched. “I’ll tell you right now, I won’t merely defend against your attacks from here on out.”

Devol had already assumed that. He shook his head to clear it and hefted his blade again. While he would not be able to match Wulfsun with sheer force, he had been sure of that even before the fight. His real purpose was to test his majestic’s power, so maybe he should focus on that rather than on what he knew he couldn’t do. He looked at the sword and stilled his mind. It offered no hint of what its ability was—aside from simply looking appealing—but he would never find out if he didn’t try.

He held the blade skyward and concentrated. Wulfsun and the others watched as the glowing white light enveloped the sword and it expanded dramatically and became a vast, sky-touching blade of light at least fifteen feet tall. The massive Templar’s smirk did not disappear but his armor began to strengthen reflexively in anticipation.

“So you finally brought it out proper, eh?” he remarked, hunkered down again, and spread his arms. “Very well then. I said this at the start, but now maybe you’ll understand what I meant. Come at me with everything you’ve got!”

The boy lowered the blade to chest height and held it in front of him. The dust at his feet began to swirl around him as he took a step forward. It was time to see what his sword could truly do. He walked forward slowly before he uttered a challenging roar and lunged forward to swing the blade of light at the Templar.

Chapter Fifteen

The light of Devol’s blade began to fade

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