My Devourer System: Rise of the Bastard Son

The training yard sat high up in the air, and cold winds pushed over the crowd of soldiers with great force. The soft grass bed beneath their feet swayed, and their loud chatter filled the space.

Their whole class surrounded Lucen and Set. Ymir looked over them, conflicted, Tharic slightly amused, and Warren concerned and vigilant.

Lucen quietly twirled the spear between his fingers, considering his options. [Breath of Rage] and the spells he got from Lost Wind couldn't be used in front of so many people—they would ask how he got them.

[Targeting] and [Breath of Veil] would form the bulk of his magical offence, along with his skill gained from completing the first mission from the system.

[Reading] was the primal ability of the Lurker hounds, capable of discerning the type and direction of magical attacks within a certain radius.

Lucen had fought Set many times, mostly with wooden weapons, and won most of the time. Their first duel was when they were thirteen, freshly allowed in the training yard.

Set had stolen and burnt some of his notes, and in his rage, Lucen called him weak and insignificant.

They were both amateurs in any form of fighting, but Lucen, against his childish impulses, had trained more diligently and barely won. And as time went on, and Lucen trained more, he naturally became a better fighter.

The wind tousled his blonde hair, and Lucen finally stopped playing with his spear as Set was finally ready.

His black hair fluttered chaotically in the wind, and his eyes were filled with a malicious light.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," said Set quietly, "You a whore's son walking around here, tainting the sanctity and legacy of my family."

Lucen had some choice words to say, but Heimar was right there. He stared blankly at Set.

"You'll still lose, I think you already know that I'm just better than you."

"The sign of a great warrior is skill." Set quoted, "The sign of a champion is perseverance and love for all that victory represents."

Lucen was shocked to find out that Set actually listened in class. The quote was from Havi the Stoic, a renowned strategist.

Should he be afraid? He thought while smirking.

Set reached into the air and pulled out a wicked sword, carved from the talon of a large beast, black and menacing, with glowing red runes carved into the hilt of the sword.

"I love my family, and I will protect their honour."

As he charged at him with his sword held over his brow, Lucen lowered his stance.

The light falling over the training yard flared. Set's black blade tore through the air, coming down in a diagonal slash.

The silver spear glittered as Lucen spun under the slash and sent a jab straight at Set's head.

They reset and exchanged vicious attacks. 

Set's blade made the air hiss as his fast, tight slashes chased Lucen, but he was careful with the heavy blade and wary of overextending himself.

Lucen was agile, lithe, a blinding display of constant movement. He stepped past attacks, and his spear always flashed after a dodge. 

Whether still or dodging, the silver spear recklessly spun around him over his palm or on his back while he dodged, flickering in the light hypnotically.

"Why does he keep doing that?" said Heimar. "He's denying himself chances to attack."

"It makes Set wary of attacking," Falgner explained, "and he always seems ready to attack even during the spins."

"Your children are always so impressive," Sandor exclaimed, "but they need to use magic; they are Knights, not soldiers."

"Set wants to beat him without it," said Koril calmly. "Lucen's magic is… strange, but it seems to be helping."

Set attacked out of a hard spot, trying to drive Lucen back, but he deflected the blade.

The powerful force of the blow shook him, but he absorbed it and swung the blade for Set's head.

Set finally let loose his magic.

In a movement rather hard for Lucen to follow, Set ducked and spun backwards for space. His skin glowed with a golden light, and the sword suddenly seemed lighter for him.

A Divine enhancement spell. They were always fast to activate and react.

Lucen lamented his decision not to use [Breath of Rage], but Koril was right there. Now he had to rely on [Reading] to read Set's mana spikes.

[Targeting] increased the accuracy of his strikes, so he could mostly focus on defence and movements. [Breath of Veil], while mostly a stealth skill, created a slight confusion in Set's ability to react to his attacks and hide his mana from Koril and Chester's eyes.

Set attacked abruptly, his glowing body shooting forward, but Lucen met him halfway and prevented him from applying his full force.

As their weapons met, Lucen gasped.

This time, the deflection sent jolts of pain running down his arm. Lucen spun his spear towards Set's neck, but he was much faster than before, dodging and immediately counterattacking.

To everyone watching, Lucen was in a terrible spot. With no enhancement techniques, and against Set's Wyrm blade, a more powerful weapon that most likely increased his attack strength.

But those with more experience could see that much hadn't changed. Lucen was still spinning his weapon foolishly, but he dodged and countered every move with great foresight, and his spear was a brief flash of light after every dodge that Set must dodge.

In a few seconds, they were both shocked when Lucen's spear shot out while spinning over his hand.

Set's neck was open. He would die.

But suddenly jumped away, shocking everyone watching.

Chester, whose hand had been raised, sighed. "Thank god, they were about to kill each other."

As Lucen jumped away, the golden light above Set suddenly congealed, transforming into a giant greatsword and slashing where Lucen had just been standing.

Set was hoping to dodge the spear and kill Lucen with his Light spell. Lucen had barely sensed the attack due to its activation speed and abandoned his attack.

Ymir and the rest of their peers stood in awe of their fearlessness and predictions, but Lightcloak elders all glanced at Heimar, who remained stony-faced.

Daddy's boy, Lucen muttered to himself. Did Heimar have no shame? Pampering the dolt like that.

Set looked incredibly conflicted by that final dodge. He had known Lucen was sensitive to mana and chose the fastest spell he could find.

Lucen charged once more, and their battle turned to a deadly dance of golden lights chasing silver flashes of his dazzling spear.

Lucen's cold gaze hunted Set's retreating form. He didn't hate Set, not personally, but he despised the delusion he had been born to and the grandiose values he had been taught.

The Lightcloaks weren't worthy of all this foolishness. But Set's feelings seemed to be very real, this life demanded a lot from him, and if he didn't have the memories of an adult, he suspected he would have broken under the strain.

Set would probably like him when Lucen came to him as a humble lackey.

The golden greatsword appeared over Set to attack once more, so big that there was barely any space to dodge.

Lucen stepped and twisted his body with a somersault, letting the blade barely pass beside him and landing right in front of a shocked Set.

His spear flashed, and Set closed his eyes, unable to dodge.

When he opened them, he was still alive, a spear just beside his neck. Lucen's golden eyes were distant and tired, and his fluttering golden hair glowed under the weak light.

"I told you—you can't beat me."

Lucen retrieved his spear and turned his back on Set, whose face turned red with fury.

He attempted to raise his weapon, but a hand ripped it from his grasp.

It was Heimar, looking down on him, his lips curled in disgust.

Set lowered his head, forcing his eyes to stay dry, and Ymir walked up to him, placing an arm over his shoulders.

Lucen went to return the spear, but Warren shook his head.

"I'll leave it with you. It's wasted on me," said Warren grimly. "I hate spears. You can bind it to your soul, but its powers will not answer you yet."

He was about to leave when Koril and Chester walked up to them.

"You've done well," said Koril. "I believe this warrants a true reward."