Zectas Volume V: The Sequestered Seminary of Sawtorn (21 page)

'Looks like this test could be a blessing in disguise, after all,' he thought happily.

* * * * * * 

Smoke spent the next few days fighting against the same aquatic monsters. A normal person would have died of boredom due to the monotony of the waves of clawfuls. Yet, Smoke found the redundancy therapeutic and calming. He fed on their dropped meat and simply accumulated their pincers until he got the encumbered status. When that happened, he simply left the pincers altogether. He logged out when it was time to take his scheduled power naps, and returned promptly to repeat the whole arduous process.
With the constant going up and down the earth-pillar, he decided to create a staircase for him to climb on. This also allowed the next wave of clawfuls to climb after him. The stairs forced the clawfuls to line themselves up. He allowed this to happen, as the aquatic monsters were not good with the steps.
Using his Master-Level Earth Manipulation, he had built a death-tower specifically for the clawfuls. It had two staircases for the aquatic monsters to climb on. Whenever they began to ascend, he engulfed them in flames and assaulted them with fire-spears.
As his kills on the monster numbered by the thousands, he was hopeful that something good would pop up. When he killed the ten-thousandth one, nothing happened, not even a rare drop. The good thing that he got from all of this was that his Fire Manipulation increased to Intermediate Level 9, Serval's Glow raised to Intermediate Level 6, and he rose by one more level.
Smoke was now level 115.
Also, during this entire period, Smoke's feeling of being watched never vanished. Whoever or whatever was watching him, never appeared before him, but he could always feel their eerie gaze upon him.
PLOP
Suddenly, Eleve appeared out of thin air, as the agreed upon date finally arrived.
Smoke quickly leapt down to greet her. He removed his ruby mask and bowed down, lowering his head to the ground. "Greetings, Eleve. I hope this proves my innocence and truthfulness."
"We will see," she said sternly. She then pointed to his earth-tower. "What's that thing supposed to be?"
"I used it to fight off the clawfuls during my exile here," answered Smoke.
"You expect me to believe that you did not leave for your world and stayed there? Didn't you only return to Zectas, today?" questioned Eleve.
"Technically, you didn't tell me I couldn't do that," reasoned out Smoke. "But that's not what I did. I really stayed here and fought off thousands of clawfuls."
"Fine! Then, prove it!" dared Eleve. "Destroy your tower and fight a hundred of them at once."
"Wait, I thought you said that if I'm still alive when you return, that your god Tlaltezin would vouch for my innocence?" asked Smoke.
"I did say that, but I need to see it with my own eyes," said Eleve. She then fired her fireballs at the sea, causing it to swell with steam.
As expected, the crab-men emerged from the salty waters.
"Let's do this!" he energetically cried out. "F-Y-I, a wave of these clawfuls consists of more than fifty. The ones you aggravated now are about a hundred," he said to Eleve with a determined look.
CRUMBLE
Eleve turned around, as the sounds of falling rocks occurred behind her. Smoke destroyed his earth-tower at the center of the island. He placed his ruby mask over his face, as he prepared himself to face these aquatic monsters with only his Fire power.
Activating his shoes' Trailblazer ability, Smoke encircled the island in a ring of fire. He then poured out his and Igniz's synergized power into the fire and turned it into a wall of dark flames.
He repeated the same process, but this time he created a smaller ring close to the center of the island.
"I suggest you stay here close to me," said Smoke to Eleve. "Unless you want to attack these clawfuls and help me out?"
PLOP
Eleve instantly teleported next to him.
"Faux, I swear by Tlaltezin, that if you defeat these monsters by only using Fire, I will accept Flora's death and hold you in no way responsible," said Eleve, placing her hand over her heart.
"I'll hold you to that," said Smoke.
Then, the clawfuls easily walked past through his first layer of dark flames. Their life bars reflected the smallest of damage, less than 1%.
The outer flames began protruding sharp spear-heads, thirty-two of them in total. When the clawfuls got in the middle of the two flaming rings, the fire-spears launched with deadly accuracy and dealt a bonus damage from their back attacks.
The clawfuls cringed in pain from the flaming spears. Some turned around, while others knelt down, using their larger pincers to support their heavily-armored bodies.
Smoke attacked with another volley of thirty-two fire-spears, which most of the clawfuls blocked with their pincers.
However, sharp fire-swords protruded out of the dark flames in the inner ring. They blocked the path of the clawfuls that tried to step closer towards him.
"You copied my flaming swords," said Eleve, as she noticed the similarity.
Managing eight flaming-blades was Smoke's current limit. The fire-swords slashed across the clawfuls' red crustacean carapace.
The aquatic monsters frantically looked at both firewalls, confused. Despite his two blazing weapons, the clawfuls numbers continued to increase, as more of the monsters stepped through the outer ring. Smoke relied on his basics. Sixty-four fireballs, the size of Igniz's own body, steadily spewed out from the outer ring towards the inner one.
Slowly, the hard red-shells of the clawfuls were being blown off by his basic attacks. The constant assaults of fireballs and fire-spears, coupled with the hindering fire-swords, trapped the clawfuls in between the two rings.
Sweat poured out of his pores and drenched his clothes. Yet, this were not caused by the heat of the flames, but rather by the sheer concentration he exerted to simultaneously control this fiery inferno.
Remembering to give his enemy false hope, he did not set the middle grounds on fire. He feared that if he did, the aquatic monsters would be forced to push through his flaming sabers, straight towards him.
In the span of only twenty minutes, he had killed about half of them. Yet, his mana bar of 393,093 MP was now left with less than 10%. Even the 25% reduced mana consumption from Paradox's mask and his 345 per second mana regeneration were not enough to keep up with all of his unceasing fire strikes.
Needing to replenish his MP, Smoke paused the torrent of fireballs. He quickly fished for a jar of pompom juice and drank it all in one gulp, but this only restored his mana bar by 30%.
Determined, Smoke spent the next twelve minutes tearing out the carapace of the clawfuls and attacking their openings with his fire. Thus, he finished the last scraps of the clawful wave.
An exhausted Smoke slumped down on the middle of the singed island. He clutched his chest, as he thanked Igniz who was merged inside him.
CLAP CLAP CLAP
Eleve's slow clapping confused him. He was unsure if she was being sarcastic or not.
"As Tlaltezin wills, I, Eleve Dawkins, find you to be truthful and innocent on the unfortunate circumstance of Flora's death," somberly said the elderly HighElf, as she tried to keep a straight face.
However, she still collapsed on the ground next to him.
"I can't believe it, she's really gone," she said with a deep melancholy.
Smoke patted her shoulders. "I just want you to know that it was a quick death. I don't think she felt that much pain."
"If only I didn't have that event, then she wouldn't have—" Eleve stopped herself and began sobbing. "I would have been there instead of her. Flora's always been too kind for her own good."
"She was," said Smoke with a smile.
Eleve smiled back, and stood up. She fluffed off the soot from Smoke's fire attacks on the ground.
"Faux, it's time," she said to him.
"Time for wha—" he was rudely cut off, as Eleve teleported them both back to the seminary.

* * * * * * 

"We're finally back, Freifahrt!" exclaimed Smoke. He rode bareback on his dirus wolf with a rickety cart in tow, riding towards the amethyst city.
They stopped in front of Votl's city gates, where four Warriors stood, clothed in the city's emblem of three mountains. They wore black leather armor with long bastard swords on their sides.
'These guys look stronger than the previous Guards,' he thought.
"Halt," ordered one of the Warrior Guards.
"Whoa, boy, it's time to show them our papers," said Smoke to his mount, patting the dirus wolf's head.
He got off his mount and displayed his brown Earth Elementalist attire, but with a slight improvement. His entire ensemble were all accented with fire-red linings. This went well with his ruby mask, etched with golden flames, the Paradox Pyro Face.
"What's your purpose for entering the city?" asked the other Warrior.
"I'm Faux, a participant of the Magi Gagnant Tournament," answered Smoke.
"Wait a minute, you can't be him," said a weaker looking Warrior, who came out from their guard post. "I met Faux before, he looked like a beggar in his torn brown robes."
Smoke recognized him as the guard who stopped them on his first time here. Then, he remembered that this was also the place where he first saw Flora.
"Hello, I'm the same guy," said Smoke, in his friendliest tone. "I was here with some children back then, and Lord Avilo came to vouch for me, remember?"
"Faux? What happened to your shabby brown clothes? And that mask?" eagerly asked the guard. "It looks really expensive."
"It's a memento of a good friend," replied Smoke.
"Hm, after looking at you more closely, you do still have that tattered look about you," said the guard. "Let him in boys."
"Shut it," said the stronger looking Warrior, and pushed the guard to the side. "You're not the boss of us."
The Warrior in black clothes then turned to Smoke. "Show me your papers."
"Of course," said Smoke, handing in his participation document for the tournament.
"Alright, you can pass," said the Warrior in black.
Traveling with purpose, Smoke directed his dirus wolf straight to a decent sized shop called Perdant Wares.
TIDING TING
Looking up, Smoke saw the newly installed bell and smirked.
'Leave it to Perdant to copy other shops,' he thought to himself, amused.
"Welcome, welcome, honored guest," said a plump old man sitting on the counter. "My name is Perdant and I'm the owner of this humble shop. How can I help you today?"
Smoke removed his ruby mask, revealing himself.
"Master Smoke? I'm sorry, but I didn't recognize you with your new clothes," said the old Merchant. "And that red mask, it's really something. There's a league of difference from your old one. It's only been a few weeks, but it's like you've completely changed."
"Let's just say that I found a great place to learn magic," said Smoke and grinned. "Anyway, I've come to hear the update on our investment and on my request. I've been waiting to hear a message from you, but nothing ever came."
"I apologize, but I was afraid to contact you," began Perdant. "I feel that my dealings have performed poorly and would warrant your anger. Of course, I'm prepared for any absolution you see fit."
Smoke gulped. "How much did you lose?" he asked as calmly as he could muster, clenching his fists as he prepared himself to hear the old man's answer.
"Well, you left me with fifty-million zecs, right?" asked Perdant.
Taking a deep breath, Smoke nodded.
"In these past few weeks, I regret to inform you that I only raised it to fifty-five-million," said Perdant.
As soon as he heard, Smoke let out a sigh of relief. He thought the old Merchant had squandered all his money.
"Don't worry. I'll do better next time," said Perdant. "And the other reason why your profit is so low was because of this."
The plump man gave Smoke a scroll. "I couldn't believe how much the Spy was asking for it, but I believe that it's exactly what you wanted."

"Nice! Any amount of zecs should be worth it for the latest information on Ouragan," said Smoke.
COUGH COUGH
The old Merchant let out a forceful cough as he gulped hard. "Um, actually, that scroll might not be so up-to-date."
"Really? When was this information gathered?" asked Smoke.
Perdant replied with hesitation. "It may have been three—"
"Three weeks, huh? That doesn't seem that long," said Smoke.
"Or, three months," quickly added Perdant. "The Spy assured me that he hasn't seen the old man do anything new, apart from what's written on those scrolls."
Purple flames came out of Smoke's hands, as he clenched them tightly.
He took in a deep breath, as he tried to calm himself down. "How much did you spend on this scroll exactly?"
"It cost quite a bundle," began a nervous Perdant. "They guy asked for three million zecs, but I haggled it down to two."
Smoke hugged himself tightly and dug his nails into his skin, as he tried his best not to burn down Perdant's entire store to a crisp.