Guild Wars-Novel

Chapter 833: Core Members Tournament 11

The arrow that was sure to end her life suddenly paused in midair, looking lost and confused, as if it had its own sentience. It turned around to face Tunder like a lost puppy that needed guidance from its master.          

    

Tunder, for that matter, frowned heavily. Mentally, he had already concluded this fight, sure that this attack would have made things simple for both parties, but who – besides Dreary Traveler – knew Hera was feisty enough to pull a trick like this?      

What gave him a headache was that he had no idea where she went and when she would reappear, because he had refrained from using his Lock-on skill. After all, the archer had wanted to end the battle simply and did not know she had a trick like this up her sleeve after all.      

Tunder then hesitated. Should he go all out, or should he let this crafty kuudere loli eat the win for free? With nothing better to do, he took a look to the crowd, where he noticed that AP_Berzerker was looking on with a bored glance. When their eyes met, AP sneered and made a throat cutting gesture.      

Tunder's face hardened, as it became clear that he couldn't afford to quit here! If he did not surpass these freaks, how would he be able to control the likes of AP who respected only strength? That stubborn Werewolf would definitely reverse bully him if things went south!      

As such, Tunder sucked in a deep breath and decided to break his own rules for this fight alone. With a gleam in his eyes, his body began to glow in an ethereal purple color, making all the faces of the core members change.      

.........….      

Meanwhile, Hera was breathing a bit roughly as she appeared in the portal center of the City of Light. She steadied herself on the nearby wall, gathering herself from her near-death experience.      

It might have looked like she had pulled off the greatest escape in history, but lord knew she had been just about frozen in body and mind when that arrow came close. It took Herculean effort to activate the skill before her brain and the arrow became close acquintances.      

Hero stood upright when she noticed one of the porters walk over. Upon seeing her Rank, the porter's eyes lit up as he became obsequious.      

"Mistress Hera, it is my greatest pleasure to receive you. My name is Simon Louis and it's my honor to act as your designed porter during your stay in the City of Light, home of the Arcanists!"      

Hera simply nodded coldly and aloofly walked past the fellow. The porter didn't seem offended by this, thinking that this was the norm for Arcanists of her standing.      

As for Hera, she cool-headed, not cold, yet she would never forget the disdain the porters had for her when she came here at Rank 1. They had looked at her as if she was a disgusting dog wasting their precious time when they could be doing something better.      

Then again, that was how it worked for Arcanists. Their class system and hierarchy was based on Combat Rank, and it was strict and distinct. After all, the gap in power between each Rank was more of a gulf than with any other class on the main plane.      

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Just the reduction time and access to better spells at a new Rank would let you beat 10 of yourself from the previous Rank, assuming of course, you were competent enough.      

The City of Light Hera was on was not the same as the one belonging to the Church of Light, not even close. One was a Holy City for the Gods and religion, while this was a floating fortress that traversed both the Main Plane and the unmapped zones as it flew around.      

The Arcanists were arrogant, egotistic and very vain as far as Hera could tell. For Immortal Adventurers, the Ranks from 1 to 7 was little more than going from Adventurer, to Lord, to King to Emperor, to Demi-god, to Godling and then God, but to Arcanists it meants something else entirely.      

A Rank 1 Arcanists was a Trainee, Rank 2 was a Novice, Rank 3 was an Intermediate, Rank 4 was an Adept, Rank 5 was a Master, Rank 6 was a Grandmaster and Rank 7 was a God. Naturally, the treatment in the City of Light would improve with each subsequent Rank, though the inverse was also true.      

Rank 1 Trainees were, as stated before, treated like common dogs with fleas. They were weak, inquisitive, awed by everything and generally behaved like country bumpkins, so even the powerless porters dared to look down on them.      

Rank 2 Novices were slightly better, their overall treatment was nothing to write home about. A porter wouldn't disdain you, but they wouldn't be enthusiastic to meet you either. It would be basic level customer service for average clients.      

Rank 3 Intermediates were treated like slightly more important customers. Porters would be enthusiastic to treat you based on your future potential and your current standing, which was sufficient to have some influence in the world of Arcanists.      

A Rank 4 Adept was a different class of being. As one could see, the porters would be excited to see and work for such an existence. You could even step on them without a single complain. After all, Adepts were regarded as the mainstay of the Arcanists' group.      

They were the link between the upper ranks and the lowers ranks. If this was an army, they would be like captains. As for Rank 5 Masters, they were just that, masters.      

These were fellows who could create their own schools in the City of Light and research their own theories of spells and magic with subsidies from the city. Adepts were their core forces, while Intermediates were their inner forces and Novices their outer forces.      

They did not even bother with Trainees.      

A Rank 6 Grandmaster was a master of Masters, with a huge academy of magic dedicated to them and many Masters working for them. Their systems were similar to Masters, but much bigger, more efficient and wealthier.          

    

Since all schools could be linked in some way, most Masters would automatically be put under the academy of a Grandmaster for management.      

For example, if Hera opened the school of Combustion Magic as a Master, she would be put under the Academy of Explosion magic belonging to a Grandmaster.      

And then, there were still the extremely limited amount of Rank 7 Gods. They were called Gods, because they the illustrious Rank 9 spells. It should be known that Rank 9 spells were about as powerful as Draco's Subjective Magic if he used 1% of Aetheric Energy and 99% Worldly Energy.      

Don't laugh, it's not pathetic at all!      

Aetheric Energy gives goddamn life to spells and makes them so overpowered that even Richmond hesitated to use them in battle. A spell which contains even a fraction of that would be akin to a Meteor Shower spell, or something as cataclysmic as Madara's Heaven Concealed.      

They were world ending spells with huge Arcane Energy requirements, huge casting times and insane damage output. The spell that allowed the City of Light to float was even rumored to be a Pseudo Rank 10 spell that had been jointly created and cast by 20 Rank 7 God Arcanists after 100 days nonstop chanting.      

Hmm, if Draco were to replicate this… maybe 30% Aetheric Energy after 3 seconds? After all, Rank 4 granted him the ability to cast Permanent Buffs and Debuffs. Buff and Debuffs were also considered battle enchantments, right?      

Alright, lets stop comparing OP protagonists with cannon fodder "powerhouses".      

Just as Hera was about to head to the School of Magic in which she was a core member of, her body froze as her heart palpitated. With Rank 3 Control, she had supreme senses and control of her sixth sense, so she could sense the aura of death caressing her entire body like it was her lover.      

In front of her, she saw the greatest sight she would ever see in her life.      

The entire horizon outside the shields of the City of Light were lit up with a bright purple color, with a glowing light in the middle that carried the aura of death she had just felt.      

It was… beautiful.      

...........      

In the arena, Tunder's body first glowed with a purple light, making him look special and magical. However, the faces of the core members all changed when their passive Control began sending alarms to their minds, telling them to close their domains immediately!      

Just as they did so, the world seemed to enter cataclysm as Tunder's body exploded with a purple aura that burned upwards, causing shockwaves on the level of a hurricane to emerge in the arena. The purple aura around him was so thick that it manifested destiny itself.      

The poor core members were like ragdolls, being blown up and down until they used their various powers and abilities to regain some semblance of control. Misery and AP_Berzerker wore angry expressions as they gazed at Tunder, cursing.      

"This fucker! Does he not care for his body?! Does he even understand what he is doing?!" Misery swore with a hint of worry in his eyes.      

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AP cursed for a while before becoming silent. He then said: "I know Ilverios, and he has the finest control of his body among anyone I know. His combat sense is also frightening, and since we have the same bloodline, I can tell that this is not even fazing him."      

Misery's face changed greatly.      

"Impossible! Utter nonsense!" He roared, not willing to believe what AP was trying to say.      

After all, he was an adept in bloodline matters, being so skilled with the Merlin Lineage's bloodline after all these years that he could even surpass the so-called trainers back at home. It was precisely due to this understanding that he understood the consequences of Tunder's actions, but was unwilling to believe AP that such consequences were mitigated or negated.      

Why so? Because of what it implied.      

Why had Tunder exploded with so much power that the entire arena was shaking? You could guess it.      

The fellow was channeling all 100% of his Bloodline Energy into a super big move!      

Now, first things first, you need to understand that not everyone can pull the same kind of bullshit Draco and Eva did when they were at 99% or less. There's a reason they were called prodigies and were the centerpiece of everything.          

    

Even the God Serpent fellows could not boast that they could infuse 100% of Bloodline Energy into one attack with ease. This has to do with the nature of bloodlines, the body and energy itself.      

Take a house, say a middle class home for four. This houses has been wired by a senior electrician to contain a certain level of power flowing through it. This power would be controlled and dispersed through the wires that had been specifically chosen for their load bearing capabilities, having a maximum load they could bear before burning into scrap.      

The same principal applied to the human body, whether it was blood vessels, veins, capillaries or the mythical meridians, each was built based on the body's capability. They had a limit of blood, plasma, platelets and energy they could allow to pass through before rupturing due overload.      

So what would happen if the house/body could only contain up to 30 kilowatts per day/30% Bloodline Energy at once yet suddenly had to bear the brunt of over 300 kilowatts/100% Bloodline Energy running through it?      

Naturally, kaboom!!!      

That was what Misery expected to happen from Tunder's actions, but AP was directly telling him that no matter what, Tunder wouldn't blow up from channeling so much raw energy through his meridians and vessels. This either meant that Tunder had vessels the size of rivers, had vessels with the strength of titanium, had Bloodline Energy that was gentle despite being plentiful or…      

The one that Misery knew was likely to be true, but made him feel even more indignant of the possibility.      

That Tunder had absolutely perfect compatibility with his bloodline to the point where it was no longer just a matter of his body, but his soul and his mind. Sort of like old Draco and Eva, who were basically built by the bloodline, making them perfect hosts able to channel any amount.