Return of the Runebound Professor

Chapter 885: The Purpose of the Path

Mordred didn’t let himself watch Brayden for too long. There wasn’t enough to be gained from that particular venture, as tempting as it was. He’d never seen such a disrespectful fighting method. Launching the other mages off the platform with nothing but sheer physical strength in face of all their magic was certainly a choice.

If he’d been trying to make sure that people noticed him, then it was working. The watchers in the crowds were almost certainly going to split down the middle of loving or hating this. Some of them would find the idea of brute physical strength hilarious. The rest would be pissed they didn’t get to see any interesting magic.

Mordred fell a bit more in the latter camp. He would have far preferred to see what Brayden was truly capable of. But a lack of action was just as much of an answer as anything else. The fact that Brayden was capable of plowing through the tournament, even at such an early stage, without having to rely much on his own magic, spoke lengths to just how powerful he was.

His domain must be quite powerful. The fact that he still hasn’t been hit with anything given how close he’s getting to his opponents… that’s not someone who is posed any threat by the other mages in his melee. The only one that might have actually caused him trouble has banded up together with him for seemingly no reason at all.

It was strange. Everyone from Spider’s party was stronger than Mordred would have expected. But they didn’t seem to have any connection to the factions at all. None of them appeared to recognize any of their opponents. They didn’t even make the attempt to.

Thus far, every single one of them had set off on their own the moment the round had started. They’d all then proceeded to commence various degrees of antics. Not one of them were playing the tournament safe. It would have been a simple matter for any one of them to just hold back and stay in the corner while the weaker mages eliminated each other.

If they’d done that, their powers would have been concealed for later rounds. That was almost certainly what the majority of the other powerful mages were doing. Keeping one’s cards close to chest was a massive advantage. That was going to matter a hell of a lot more in the later rounds, when the opponents weren’t pushovers anymore.

Nobody from Spider’s group seemed to care. It wasn’t even that they were going all out to try and show off, either. They were just… doing what they wanted. Not one of them had shown much consideration at all who their opponents might be or accounted for someone potentially watching and taking note of their skills.

It was like they were challenging every single mage in the tournament to stop being a pansy and holding back in expectation for what might have been.

Mordred wasn’t sure if that was the smartest idea. But, no matter how things ended up playing out, there was one thing for certain. It was definitely going to draw a lot of attention. By the time the melee rounds had ended, Mordred held no doubt that pretty much every one of Spider’s group would have quite a few interested eyes on them.

But Mordred wasn’t here to sit around and admire their combat strategies. It didn’t matter why they were doing this. He was far more interested in getting the answers to his questions. Now, more than ever. And for him to get those… it wasn’t the flashy mages that he had to be paying attention to.

It was the ones that hid. The mages that were strong enough that these melee fights weren’t even a threat to them. Some of them were easier to find than others. Some mages were just so confident in their abilities that they couldn’t have hidden them even if they’d wanted to.

They were like rich men wandering down the streets of a war-torn street. Even though they’d hidden their bulging purses beneath their robes, Mordred could still spot them for what they were by just the quality of their robes and the airs they bore.

And there were a lot of them.

Enough that he couldn’t properly grant them the attention he would have liked. Spider’s people passed close to them multiple times. Some were truly obvious — such as the giant that had joined up with Brayden. Though he had barely drawn on his magic, Mordred could feel the power emanating from within the man.

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He was deadly. Far stronger than he’d let on. And in the very same arena were at least four more mages, each of which bore similar strength. They had wisely avoided Brayden and Erek’s rampage through the arena, clearly not wanting to be forced to overplay their hands too early… but they were watching.

And the other arenas were similar.

Lee had several powerful mages watching her. She’d scared one or two of them. The rest were just interested. And so the list went on. The other arenas all bore threats of their own. That was really no huge surprise. With the scale of this tournament, it was inevitable that there would have been a near uncountable number of strong opponents.

The real question was just how long it would take until those mages were forced to go up against one another. When the fodder had been properly removed from the tournament, then things would truly get started — and Mordred would be able to tell exactly who he needed to keep an eye on.

***

“I won!” Lee exclaimed.

Brayden squinted at her. Both of them had returned to the viewing room with Noah and Fist a short while ago after the conclusion of their melee rounds. It didn’t seem like either had been particularly hard pressed to survive. Neither had been dealt anything more than a few small scratches.

“I’m not quite so sure,” Brayden said slowly. “I eliminated twenty-three people. You got nineteen.”

“Yeah,” Lee said.

“So…” Brayden trailed off for a moment. Then he arched an eyebrow. “I got twenty-three. You got nineteen. That means I killed more.”

“Yup,” Lee said.

“Then I win,” Brayden said.

“Nope.”

Brayden glanced to Noah. “Little help, here?”

“Don’t look at me,” Noah said with a snort. “This is on you for entering a bet with her in the first place.”

“You won the bet. And that means you lose,” Lee said with a sly smile.

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” Brayden asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a bemused grin.

“Our bet was that the winner would buy the loser a meal,” Lee said. Her grin grew wider. “And you won. That means you have to buy me food.”

Brayden opened his mouth. Then he paused, a finger raised halfway into the air falling as he realized what Lee was saying. “Wait. That wasn’t a mistake? You just misspoke, didn’t you? How does that make any sense?”

“It’s a bet,” Lee said. “Not a law. It doesn’t have to make sense. And a deal’s a deal. Doesn’t matter if someone says it wrong, right? So you win. Which means you lose.”

Brayden stared at her for a second. Then he let out a bark of laughter. “Fair enough. After the tournament is over, then. I don’t know if we’re going to get out of the room before then.”

“It’s likely we will,” Fist put in.

Noah glanced to her in surprise. He’d fully expected to be locked in the room until everything had finished. “Really?”

“If we get far enough,” Fist said with a nod. “At least, that’s my guess. I’ve never participated in the Tournament of Heaven’s Path before. But I’ve been in and seen others. They always have some mixers and shit so you can schmooze with the higher-ups toward the end. Also lets them build up a narrative for the final fights.”

“Hold on.” Noah’s brow furrowed. “A narrative?”

“This is a show,” Fist said, gesturing out to the arenas below. Another round of the melees had started. It seemed there were still mages who had yet to fight. “All of it. But the script hasn’t been written yet. They’re not gonna bother with that until the end.”

“Are you implying that these are rigged?” Brayden asked with a frown. “The winner isn’t legitimate?”

“Oh, no. The other Faction Heads would never let the Prophet pull that off. I’m sure she’d love to, but definitely not.” Fist shook her head firmly. “The results aren’t determined. But they’re still going to try to set things up to get the most dramatic fights possible. It makes sense. Those also tend to be the ones that best display the combatant’s skills.”

“Does that mean if two people have some degree of animosity, it’s more likely that they’ll end up fighting each other if they both get far into the tournament?” Noah asked.

“That would be my guess. They’re not fixing the matches, but if there’s a chance for a more interesting fight… you can bet that they’re going to try and set it up. A good story is one of the things they’re gunning for here, after all. That’s the whole point of the tournament. Well, half of it. That’s the part that makes a bunch of money.”

“And the other half?” Noah asked idly.

“Well, that would be the actual goal.”

“Which is?” Noah asked.

“How do you not know? Is that not literally the reason all of us are here?” Fist asked. “It’s the Tournament of Heaven’s Path.”

The way she said that made it abundantly clear that Noah really should have known what it meant. Unfortunately, no matter how famous the tournament may have been, he wasn’t exactly from Obsidia. The only reason he cared about this tournament at all was finding Moxie and his students.

“Humor me,” Noah said. “What is it?”

“To find a new master,” Fist said. “The purpose of the Tournament of Heaven’s Path is to be chosen as one of the Faction Head’s new disciples.”