The Inner Odyssey

Alden could hear the discontent of those present.

They believed he was someone who only used his subordinates to do his bidding, and that he was someone incapable of backing up his own words with his strength.

…He, however, tuned it all out.

Alden had dealt with enough people in his life that he found it was just easier for him to ignore such chatter, rather than waste precious energy responding to them.

He would let them run their mouths.

'Actions speak louder than words, anyway.'

With that, Alden turned his attention to the next bout.

The Storm Sentinels vs The Holy Knight Order.

A clash that promised a great deal of excitement.

The crowd cheered louder than they had for the first match, a sea of green bursting to life in response to the Holy Knights' arrival. After all, in their eyes, they were the favourites, and the most beloved guild in the Territory. Doubtless, a myriad of bets had taken place, all gambling on the Holy Knights' victory.

The Storm Sentinels, meanwhile, were quiet and solemn. There was less fanfare to their entrance, only a scattering of applause amidst the raucous jubilation of the Wind. However, Alden couldn't deny the sense of destructive power they emanated.

The Storm Sentinels wore navy-blue armour, countless scratches and symbols of honour marring its surface, alongside the engraving of a faded, raging squall. They each held a weapon in their grip - one wielding a large sledgehammer, another a broadsword, and the last, a scepter with dark-blue veins running along its length, emitting an alarming pulse of mana.

On the other side, adorned in dark, stone-like armour flecked with golden accents, stood the Holy Knights. Unlike their opponents, they wore helmets, with narrow slits in the vizor for their eyes. The mystery surrounding their identities only served to increase the zeal of the crowd, Alden spotting males and females alike fawning over them like heroes.

In a way, they were like heroes. Champions, to be precise.

Soon, a deafening hush washed over the Arena as the two sides prepared to clash, their postures tense and alert, ready to respond to the slightest twitch. Just as the tension in the air peaked, and Alden instinctively held his breath, the wail of a deep horn resounded, announcing the start of the fight.

Immediately, both Guilds struck.

The Storm Sentinel with the magical scepter pointed it towards the heavens, releasing a harrowing quantity of mana. Almost instantly, the azure sky darkened, deep, angry thunderclouds rapidly blotting out the light of the sun. The heavens rumbled.

At the same time, the Holy Knights shone like lighthouses amidst a turbulent storm.

The wind howled, encircling their figures.

The sky lit up with a flash. A moment later, a thunderclap shook the world.

Once the dust settled, Alden saw green barriers had flickered to life around the stadium, protecting the spectators and dispelling any aftershocks. Simultaneously, four bolts of lightning fell from the heavens, as if Arkanis itself was declaring its judgment.

The Storm Sentinels raised their weapons, and the bolts instantly changed direction, striking them. Instead of receiving any wounds, however, the Storm Sentinels seemed to absorb the lightning, drawing power from it. Tendrils of blue lightning flickered across their frames.

The last bolt fell upon the Holy Knights.

Specifically, the combatant in their centre.

For a second, Alden thought the Holy Knight would be eliminated. However, in the next moment, the warrior calmly snapped their finger, and a green, twisting vortex of swirling wind energy formed around them. The spinning whirlpool consumed the lightning, trapping it, before revolving with greater and greater intensity.

Suddenly, it ejected the bolt in the direction of the crowd. The light-green barriers all around the stadium shone, protecting the audience. The spectators roared, awed by the first exchange.

Alden was pretty impressed, too.

He leaned forward slightly, resting on his elbow, the crimson his gaze deepening.

Down in the arena, the Storm Sentinels, imbued with the power of the storm, attacked.

Two of them rushed their opponents - the sledgehammer and broadsword wielders -, their speed barely discernible to the naked eye. All the spectators could see was a brief flicker of lightning, before the storm-wreathed warriors appeared behind their adversaries, weapons drawn with ruthless efficiency.

The Holy Knights could not even take a step. They did not seem flustered, though.

In fact, the members of the top-ranked Guild did not even attempt to block.

The Storm Sentinels were now only inches away. Without warning, the wind in the arena suddenly howled, a deep, piercing wail, louder than Alden had ever heard before. Instantly, the Storm Sentinels paused in their advance.

They seemed to be straining against something invisible, weapons frozen-mid air. New scratches slowly nicked at their armour, the field of lightning buzzing around their figure impeded, blue tendrils flickering erratically in a frenzy.

With his Mana Sight, Alden saw lacerations steadily begin to accumulate on the bare-faced Storm Sentinels. For some reason, they had opted not to wear helmets. Abruptly, the roiling storm above seethed with a new cry.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark thunderclouds.

Rain fell from the heavens.

As it did, Alden found his attention drawn to the opposite side of the arena, where the last of the Storm Sentinels stood, their scepter pulsing with an ominous light in the veiled darkness of the storm.

At the same time, using his Mana Sense, the Keeper's Apprentice discovered that the Holy Knights had turned around, taking slow, measured steps toward their trapped foes. The stone-like warrior in the centre dispelled the spinning vortex, the wind calming around the trio for a moment, before each of their frames flared with a green light.

The wind resumed its keening cry.

The frozen Storm Sentinels struggled furiously, lightning flickering against their invisible restraints with more fury. Alas, their efforts proved futile.

They were stuck.

Taking note of their teammate's dire situation, the scepter-wielder raised their staff, and pointed once more at the heavens. A heartbeat later, Alden understood why his attention had instinctively roved to the last Storm Sentinel.

There, in the skies above, the heavens rumbled, answering the warrior's call.

An intense glow shrouded the firmament, a startling volume of lightning coalescing to form a majestic form. It took Alden a moment to place those draconic features, but when he did, his good eye couldn't help but widen.

As the heavens cried, bellowing their fury, a magnificent lightning Kirin hovered high above in the sky. Its maw seemed to open, releasing a blinding glow.

Alden felt like the world was holding its breath.

…Then, a split-second later, a deafening thunderclap suffused the air.