novelraw Chapter 243
Chapter 243
Jacob crosses his arms, his eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity. He is looking forward to seeing a new Rainbow Skill up close.
It's a very powerful, always-on, Active Skill that, however, it seems Garros has kept hidden.
If it was me, I'd always have it on, given the insane effect it has.
“Alright, Garros,” Jacob says, leaning casually against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. “Show me this Rainbow Skill of yours. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it in action.”
Garros swallows hard and nods. He tightens his grip on his unremarkable sword and draws it from its scabbard.
Almost instantly, the environment responds. The wind starts blowing through the clearing, catching the dry leaves and rustling the canopy. The tall, dark trees sway as if bowing to the pressure. Above them, the artificial sun of the pocket dimension seems to flare, getting noticeably stronger.
The sword in Garros’s hands begins to vibrate, humming with an intense, rising pitch. A brilliant, multicolored light slowly creeps up the length of the blade, becoming brighter and brighter until—
Fzzt.
The light sputters violently, lets out a pathetic hiss, and completely turns off. The wind dies down. The sun dims back to normal.
“I’m sorry,” Garros mutters, his voice thick with shame. “I’ve never managed to actually summon it. Not fully. Even the few times I’ve tried in secret, it just… does this. It dies.”
Jacob frowns. A Rainbow Skill shouldn't just fizzle out like this.
That makes no sense, Jacob thinks. If the System awarded it to him, his body should be fundamentally capable of wielding it.
Jacob narrows his eyes and mentally summons the Grimoire.
He prepares himself to read a massive, scrolling list of magical flaws, blocked mana pathways, or perhaps some severe incompatibilities in Garros's veins preventing the mana from solidifying into the blade.
[Analysis Completed.]
[Target: Sword of Unending Light]
[Flaws found: 0]
Jacob is stunned. He blinks, entirely sure he must have read the prompt wrong. He runs the analysis a second time.
[Flaws found: 0]
Zero flaws? Jacob’s jaw slackens slightly. Structurally, the magic is completely pristine. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with his circulation or the Skill itself.
***
High above in the stands of the arena, the colossal mirrors broadcast the fizzled attempt to the entire Academy.
A collective murmur ripples through the audience.
“Did you see that? The mana just collapsed.”
“What is his problem? He has a Rainbow Skill, the ultimate weapon, and he can’t even turn it on?”
King Skaernex leans forward in his seat, resting his chin on a massive, scaled fist. He narrows his reptilian eyes at the projection.
The boy possesses a power that could challenge divine power, yet he cannot even manifest the blade, Skaernex wonders. Why?
***
Back in the Forest of Eclipsia, Jacob opens his mouth, ready to say something. Before the words can leave his tongue, he frowns. He feels a presence nearby.
A low, vibrating growl echoes from the dense underbrush to their right.
The shadows part, and a massive Blackmoon Jaguar stalks into the clearing.
Jacob calmly steps backward, retreating until his back hits a tree trunk. He crosses his arms over his chest, deliberately and visibly taking himself entirely out of the fight.
“Garros,” Jacob says, his voice perfectly level. “Are you ready to listen to me?” Garros tears his terrified gaze away from the jaguar for half a second to look at Jacob. He nods frantically. “Yes! But Jacob, I can’t use the Skill! I can’t fight that thing!” “You don’t need the Rainbow Skill right now,” Jacob replies. Garros’s eyes bulge. “When will I need it?! And how will I even be able to use it?!” “You clearly don’t need it, because if you did, you would be able to use it,” Jacob states matter-of-factly. “The moment you actually need it, it will work.” Garros finds the logic completely nonsensical, bordering on madness. It feels like a riddle from a madman. But with a deadly monster inching closer, he doesn't have the luxury of arguing with the Leader of Champions.
Jacob shifts the Grimoire’s focus entirely, expanding the analysis to cover both Garros’s current capabilities and the Blackmoon Jaguar’s muscle twitches.
“Sidestep left, now!” Jacob orders.
Garros obeys instantly. The jaguar lunges exactly where Garros had been standing a fraction of a second prior.
“Duck! Roll forward and come up on your right knee!” Jacob commands.
This time, as Garros follows the instructions, something clicks. He feels his body naturally understanding why he is moving this way. He weaves under a sweeping paw, rolling and ending up in a highly favorable position just behind the beast's flank.
Garros takes the opening. He swings his sword with all his might, but the jaguar spins and batters the blade away with a heavy strike of its paw.
The sheer force sends Garros stumbling in retreat, his arms numb.
The monster is upon him with blinding speed, its maw opening wide to crush his skull. Garros freezes. His mind blanks. He braces for the fatal impact.
“Half-step to your left, drop your right shoulder, pivot!” Jacob barks, his voice carrying a hyper-specific, piercing authority. “Circulate the attack through your Rising Heart Veins!”
Garros doesn't think. He drops his shoulder, pivots on his heel, and forcefully shoves his mana through the exact pathway Jacob named.
His basic sword skill ignites. He unleashes a sharp blade of hardened mana that catches the side of the jaguar as he slips past its jaws.
It only leaves a shallow, bleeding mark on the black hide, but a prompt rings in Garros's ears.
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 23.]
He leveled up the Skill immediately after listening to Jacob.
The jaguar recovers its footing and snarls, launching into a relentless, furious assault.
Jacob watches the beast's muscles bunch and shift through the Grimoire's overlay, acting as Garros's eyes and tactical mind. He calls out every single swipe, bite, and tail whip before the monster even fully commits to the motion.
“Step back! Lean right! Horizontal slash!”
As Garros follows the relentless stream of instructions, the cold grip of panic in his chest slowly morphs into a razor-sharp focus.
He realizes, with a shock, that his body is actually fast enough to keep up. All those years he spent running from bullies, surviving harsh training camps, and fleeing from stronger monsters... they actually gave him incredible stamina and split-second reflexes. He just never had the courage or the guidance to use them offensively like this.
“Slide beneath its right guard! Push the mana through the Lunar Vein!” Jacob shouts over the beast’s roaring.
Garros drops to the dirt, sliding as the jaguar’s heavy claws shred the empty air above him. He channels his energy exactly as commanded, swinging his sword upward.
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 28.]
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The blade cuts a deeper groove into the monster’s underbelly. The beast shrieks, twisting violently.
“Don’t stop! Keep moving! Pivot and strike the hind leg! Adjust the grip on the sword and then circulate Mana counter-clock wise through the Rising Sun Veins before slashing!”
Garros pushes off the ground, his boots digging into the moss. He spins, his blade flashing.
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 35.]
I can do this, Garros realizes, his breath coming in ragged, determined gasps. I’m actually fighting an Intermediate Platinum monster.
The jaguar grows desperate. It unleashes a flurry of shadowy projectiles from its tail. “Two steps left, duck, and gather your mana in your underbelly!” Jacob commands, his eyes tracking the trajectories perfectly. “Wait for it… now! Release it through the heavy strike! Use all the veins from before! ”
Garros evades the shadow spikes by a hairsbreadth. He pulls his sword back, feeling the mana pooling in his chest, hot and dense. He steps into the jaguar’s blind spot as it lands.
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 47.]
...
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 54.]
His strikes become a blur of steel and blue mana. Every time he listens to Jacob, a new notification rings in his mind, correcting micro-inefficiencies he didn't even know he had. The beast is bleeding from a dozen wounds now, its movements growing sluggish.
Garros roars, planting his foot firmly. He drives the sword forward with every ounce of his strength, the mana condensing perfectly along the edge.
[Hardened Mana Blade (Platinum) has reached Level 60.]
The blade punches cleanly through the thick obsidian hide, sinking deep into the Blackmoon Jaguar’s chest.
The beast stiffens, lets out a wet, rattling gasp, and crashes to the ground, dead.
Jacob smiles, genuinely happy.
Watching the trembling boy stand victorious over the massive beast, Jacob suddenly understands the grander design. Garros might very well be what the Academy really needs right now: a true symbol of hope. Garros, the weakest among them, being able to stand tall and eventually use his Rainbow Skill, might be the most poignant, inspiring thing the entire student body could ever witness.
I knew the Headmaster was setting me up for something by pairing me with him, Jacob thinks, looking up at the artificial sky. But this… this is very, very cunning.
Garros is the dream that the Academy is selling, and it’s up to Jacob to show the students if it’s a fake dream or not.
***
Elsewhere in the Eclipsia Forest, Vyrrak Skarathys pushes through the thick undergrowth and comes to a sudden halt.
A student lies crumpled at the base of a twisted tree, groaning, surrounded by a pool of their own blood.
Vyrrak immediately drops to one knee to inspect the wounds, but his eyes immediately catch some inconsistencies.
He's dead.
The gashes on the boy’s chest are from a monster, yes. But the fatal, crippling blow that severed his spine? That wasn't from a claw. The edges are too clean, the angle entirely wrong. It was a sword strike to the back, layered with lingering dark magic.
“It was another student who did that,” a calm, detached voice says from the shadows.
Vyrrak’s head snaps up. The Sacrifice steps out from behind a tree, looking at the dead student offhandedly, though a flicker of profound disgust twists his usually placid features.
Vyrrak’s aura instantly flares. Friendly fire? Here? He feels his draconic blood boil at the dishonor. But then, noticing the deep revulsion on the ethereal assassin’s face, Vyrrak narrows his eyes.
“Why are you mad?” Vyrrak asks, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
The Sacrifice realizes his mask slipped.
He smooths his expression over and takes a slow, measured breath.
“If I had to guess, Dragonkin,” The Sacrifice says smoothly, “this is the work of the Dark Champions' influence. Whoever hurt him must be actively hunting the Champions and doesn’t care about the tournament’s rules or points. Your Headmaster promised the pain of death for those killing others, but he's clearly waiting for the end of this Trial to deliver the punishment.”
A thought seem to pass through The Sacrifice's eyes, but soon disappears.
Vyrrak stands up to his full, towering height, entirely unconvinced.
“That’s not my question, and I know what the Headmaster is thinking—” Vyrrak presses, the air around him heating up. “But you... you looked personally disgusted by it. Why?”
The Sacrifice looks at Vyrrak, and for a rare moment, the void in his eyes is replaced by a burning, bitter hatred.
“Because I know what a slave looks like, Dragonkin,” The Sacrifice says, his voice dripping with venom. “This wasn't just a friendly fire incident to thin the competition. I can smell the dark magic festering on that wound. The student who did this willingly traded his own ally's life, and put a collar around his own neck, just to beg the Dark Champions for a scrap of borrowed power. To be born with free will, only to willingly throw it away because you are too much of a coward to fight your own battles… it is pathetic.”
“I refuse to just keep hunting normal monsters. I want to go find those who did this. I don't know what you want to do, but those traitors are not going to live through the Trial.”
The Sacrifice just looks down at the dead body. He thinks of the sheer, senseless cruelty of the monsters that are being born in this world by their own weakness—no not just weakness... cowardice. He thinks of those monsters existing in the exact same world as a small, crippled tavern maid who struggles every day just to learn how to read.
Suddenly, an explosion of terrifying, suffocating aura erupts from The Sacrifice. It is an aura of absolute murder, honed to perfection.
The assassin doesn't say another word. He simply looks up at the towering Dragonkin and gives a single, slow nod of understanding.
***
As they clean their blades, Jacob glances at the floating scoreboard above them.
“So, the Headmaster laid out a very specific point economy,” Jacob says, wiping Blackmoon Jaguar blood from his sword—a few just attacked them and he had to help Garros. “Let’s do the math. An Early Platinum monster gives you exactly one point. You could slaughter a hundred of those weaklings and still only walk away with a hundred points. But look at the multipliers. A Boss monster gives you a flat one thousand multiplier. Even an Elite Diamond monster is worth a fortune. Say an Early Diamond base is ten points. Multiply that by the fifty-point Elite status, and you get five hundred points for a single kill.”
Garros sheathes his sword, listening intently. “So... killing the weak ones is a trap.” “Exactly,” Jacob nods, kicking a piece of moss. “It's a colossal waste of stamina and time. If we want to secure the top spot, we have to make a beeline for the True Diamond territory. And if by then you'll be able to use your Rainbow Skill, we'll win.”
Jacob pauses for a moment, tapping a finger to his chin.
“Until then, I can guide you through your forms. I know enough about basic sword stances and mana circulation to correct your posture on the fly, as you saw.”
Garros looks at his hands, marveling at the lingering warmth of the mana he just channeled.
“But... Jacob, what is your actual plan? I don't know if I can use my Rainbow Skill... I don't know how I'll be able to activate it.”
“I'm sure that a couple of True Diamond monsters, Elite ones or Bosses, will scare you enough to do it. You know, when you'll need it, you'll be able to. My master told me that about using his sword,” Jacob says, raising the silvery metallic blade in front of his eyes.
Over the next several hours, they carve a path through the forest. It becomes a blur of relentless combat. They hunt pack after pack of Platinum beasts, pushing steadily deeper into the gloomy woods. Guided by Jacob’s flawless, hyper-specific instructions, Garros’s movements sharpen dramatically. He stops flinching. He stops second-guessing. His footwork becomes incredibly crisp, his strikes lethal, growing stronger at a rate that completely defies reason for an ordinary student.
They break through a thicket and stop dead.
Before them lies the carcass of an Advanced Diamond rank beast, but it hasn't been hunted—it has been absolutely torn apart, shredded into unrecognizable pieces of meat and bone.
A monstrous, echoing roar vibrates through the trees ahead.
“Jacob,” Garros whispers, gripping his hilt tightly. “Do you think the Elite monsters did this?”
“Garros,” Jacob facepalms. “You keep mentioning Bosses and Elite Monsters. Stop worrying. This... this wasn't done by another monster.” Jacob looks at the unnatural, jagged cuts on the carcass. He shakes his head, his expression turning grim as he approaches the carcass to take a better look. “Nope. That was not done by a monster.”
They push forward and emerge into a wider clearing.
A student is standing in the center, slaughtering a pack of remaining beasts with horrifying ease. But the student's uniform is torn, and his body is covered in a thick, pulsating black sludge that extends from his forearms, forming wicked, jagged blades.
The student turns, his eyes completely pitch-black.
Jacob immediately senses his base aura—he's only an Early Platinum Rank. Yet, the student throws his head back and lets out a raspy, deranged cackle.
“Oh, what luck!” the student sneers, his voice distorted. “I am elated! I just stumbled upon the two most useless bastards in the entire Academy—the weakest participant and the Fake Champion! Do you know how much renown I'll get among the Dark Champions for bringing them your heads?”
As the dark sludge bubbles, Jacob feels the student's aura unnaturally spike, violently climbing to Intermediate Platinum Rank and beyond.
Jacob scans the perimeter of the clearing and gets a creeping suspicion.
“Where is your teammate?” he asks coldly.
The half-monsterified student snorts, flicking dark blood off his sludge-blades.
“My partner? He was a weakling. He tripped and died to a beast a few miles back.”
“You were paired together. Why didn't you do anything to protect him?” Jacob demands, his grip tightening on his sword.
“Protect him?” The student laughs maniacally. “The weak perish! That is the law of the world! He could have taken the Dark Champions' offer of power just like I did, but he was too much of a coward! His death is his own fault!”
“You understand, don't you, Garros Blackmere?” the student hisses. “The shame of being weak. I have more Dark Seeds. Take it! Join us, and we can kill the Fake Champion together! You’ll never be weak again!”
Jacob glances sideways. He sees that Garros is starting to tremble again, the visceral fear of the disgusting, monsterifying magic that the student is using settling deep into his bones.
But Garros doesn't step back.
“Jacob,” Garros says, his voice shaking but laced with a newfound, iron resolve. “I want to fight him alone.”
Garros steps forward, placing himself between Jacob and the traitor.
“He killed his own partner. He’s a monster—I can tell thanks to my Skill.”
The student frowns and then asks, “What Skill, how would you even know?! Hahaha! But who cares, I’ll just kill you both! My powers keep increasing! Soon, not even a Champion will be enough to stop me!”
Jacob watches from behind. In the heavy silence of the forest, he can clearly hear the faint sound of Garros’s teeth chattering in fear. But as Garros raises his blade, Jacob sees that the boy's hand on the hilt is incredibly, undeniably steady.