The High Clash

Late into the night, after parting ways with prince Takis, Lucian walked through the streets of Karnath with Tyr.

The surroundings were lit with lanterns, and people still wandered despite the time of night. A great deal of guards also walked the streets, nodding to he and Tyr whenever they passed, the badges on their chests catching the light of lanterns.

"I met Theo not too long ago. Down on the border."

"I thought he was supposed to be studying under some scholar or strategist?"

"He is. He was never more than a few steps behind the old man. But Mr. Saleas brought him to the border to experience warfare strategy. Mr. Saleas even advised Aris – the prince – in his assault of Gunlitt, though the following assault on Hardhen was the prince's doing alone."

Lucian nodded as he listened. "Was he doing well?"

"He was a little quieter, but he seemed passionate. I didn't get much of a chance to speak with him."

Tyr moved aside as a laughing couple stumbled by before continuing on.

"What about you? Any news of Delia or Tess?"

He could only shake his head in response.

"I'd thought about using Prince Takis' influence to keep up to date on them, but he told me outright that he couldn't help me."

"Oh. I'm sure they're doing fine."

To Lucian's ears, his brother seemed to mumble that to himself as much to him.

With a louder voice, as if trying to shake away the quiet mood, Lucian spoke up.

"Come. Let's find a place to drink and catch up properly. We barely spoke at the banquet."

With a smile, Tyr picked up his pace.

**

When the night came to an end, Tyr returned to the Crown Prince's wing, and Lucian to his own room. Takis had nothing to say the next day regarding what he'd looked into the night before, but told Lucian to keep an eye out for anything abnormal.

He did just that two weeks later, when yet another banquet was held to give farewells to the Crown Prince before he returned south, taking Tyr with him.

But, perhaps it was good fortune that nothing out of the ordinary occurred in the entire month that followed.

During this time Princess Irina continued to pester her older brother to train with her, excited about the upcoming tournament. At one point Takis had tried to pass the duty to Lucian, but the girl would have nothing of it.

"Are you not going to fight in the High Clash?" He asked Takis as the princess took a panting break from sword practice.

"No, I won't be able to join the tournaments anymore. They're for disciples and students. 3rd stage and below."

Lucian paused for a moment before nodding. He hadn't really considered it before, but most sect elders were of the 4th rank. Did that mean he was their equal already? He knew it in terms of strength, after all he'd bested Elder Rafiel of the Cinderheart sect, but it was strange to think that he, less than 20 years old, would be called 'Elder' if he'd joined a sect.

The thought made him shrug his shoulders uncomfortably, like the world had just become significantly smaller.

"Besides, we'll be entering the Maelstrom anyway."

Lucian had moved a few steps away to continue practicing with the white light when Takis' words disrupted his concentration.

"We will?"

"Of course?" Takis looked at him in confusion, as if asking how he could believe it any different.

"The High Clash is just to filter out those too weak to risk the venture. It's not like they are the only ones going."

"No, but. I just assumed anything of worth would have been taken already. Isn't it just there for disciples to experience the trials now?"

The Maelstrom was an inheritance ground that had appeared half a century ago, in the sea surrounding Prokos. The top eight disciples from the High Clash, a tournament between the many martial sects and nobility of Demia, would enter alongside their elders.

"Well, that's close enough to the truth. Master insists that there is still more within, but we'll be entering to ensure the safety of Irina and a few others.

"If she can win…"

He said the last with a taunting smile, and the young princess took the bait immediately.

"When I win. How long will you make me wait? Come on."

Despite her words, she was panting in exhaustion and had to pull herself up from the ground by her sword.

"Good! Then try it again!"

Lucian shook his head as the siblings exchanged practice blows once more, and moved aside to continue his practice.

When he condensed lifeforce in his hand, a bright white light bloomed. It was incredibly hot, even hotter than most of the fires he saw in the Cinderheart sect. But it was unstable, and he couldn't hold it for long.

He found that the light was more stable while in motion, and so he tried to form a ring, a spinning ball, a spiral, and and so on. But while the energy was more stable in motion, it was more straining to control mentally, and so lasted just as shortly as it would stationary.

He was not a daoist, and while he could control blood in the air with his will, so long as it was bonded, controlling energy externally was far more difficult. He could not bond his will to something so shortlived, and he lacked the qi of a daoist to act as a mediating factor.

The light flickered and vanished, a great deal of energy vanishing with it.

He was glad for one thing however. The incredible heat of the white light was completely contained within it. If it made contact with something, it would burn, scorch, or disintegrate, but it could be held half a centimeter from dried leaves and not burn them.

Shaking his head, he conjured a crystal sword of blood, shaped exactly as an ordinary longsword, and filled the blood with deathfog in order to balance the overpowering white light that filled the sword a second later.

Like this, he could sustain the light for more than ten seconds, and even utilize it's destructive heat through the blade only when he needed it, proving a far safer, if more tame application.

Swinging his sword at a large steel pole, the blade cut through it like butter. His sword swept back around for a second cut, but when it made contact this time, the blade shone like a blinding beacon for an instant before shattering, all the energy within dispersing.

"Sigh… It's too volatile."

Taking a few steps back, he tried again.

Days passed slowly in the palace.

A week later, he and prince Takis left the capital to visit a few martial sects, inquire as to the exact disciples attending the High Clash, and make a domineering appearance. When Takis let his ascendant aura seep through, he stood as if equal to the 5th stage sect leaders, and made sure they knew it.

Of course many of the sects were fiercely loyal to the crown, and with those, their exchanges were enjoyable, Takis sharing tea or wine with leaders as Lucian sometimes wandered the grounds and took in the sights of real sects.

It seemed far more lighthearted than what he'd experienced in the estate. The children still seemed exhausted, but they did not hunch with pressure, and young men and women trained eagerly.

One sect in particular, the Floating Rivers sect truly shocked him. It lived up to it's name in the most literal sense. All throughout the sect were rivers of water suspended in the air and tracing wavy lines through courtyards and above buildings.

It seemed solely an augmentation sect, and most of it's disciples were female. Swords, whips, fists, and palms flowed in an unending routine of incredible grace and smooth momentum as groups trained outside. He thought it quite similar to some of the Unhindered Motion forms, and found himself watching with interest, comparing them to those he knew.

He'd been trying to devote the forms to memory and thinking on whether to adjust some of his own movements when a soft voice spoke from behind him.

"It seems your shadow has taken a fancy to my disciples, your highness."

Turning, he found prince Takis and the sect mistress, a beautiful woman in her thirties – not that appearances were to be trusted for people like her – smiling at him.

Realizing he may have been improper, Lucian smiled back in practiced manner to diffuse any hint of real dissatisfaction beneath the mistress' smile.

"They are talented. At least a few will go far in the High Clash, I'm sure. I must admit, I have never fought with a whip before, their level of control is surprising."

He turned his head back to look at the group practicing to emphasize there was nothing improper in his actions, but it seemed unnecessary as the woman merely chuckled.

"I'm afraid we lack any great talents with the whip in this generation. It's a shame really, such a versatile tool for a cultivator."

The three watched for a moment more as Takis exchanged well mannered words with the woman, before bidding farewell.

When in the carriage once more, Takis asked:

"So? How was it?"

"More or less in line with what they'd reported. The differences are small enough that I could believe a few disciples have simply broken through since the report, or hid their cultivation from their elders."

While taking a stroll throughout the sect, Lucian had used his lifesense to estimate the cultivation levels of any disciples that entered his range, even possessing birds and mice to scout those further out.

Cultivation of almost any kind would increase one's lifeforce as a side effect, even if the method of cultivation had nothing to do with life. Using that information, he could roughly guess cultivation by the baseline of someone's life.

It was a vague, not entirely reliable estimate, and different cultivators would vary greatly even within the same realm, but for confirming the overall status of a sect against their reported might, it was fine enough.

"I'm glad" Takis said with a stretch and groan.

"The Floating River sect has always been close with the crown, but times are strange. If I recall correctly, Irina's friend was from that sect."

It took a few days more to return to the capital, and Lucian confirmed his newfound animosity for carriages. Every time he left the palace with Takis, they went by carriage with an armed escort, and took days if not weeks or more to go anywhere.

If only he could just shoot along the ground. But Takis had insisted that this was how they needed to travel. Something about being seen and the prestige of the royal family. With every word spoken though, the prince's tone became a little more mocking, and he thought perhaps it had been an order by another. Eudes or the King perhaps.

Stretching as he left the carriage, Lucian's thoughts wandered.

'Two weeks left until the High Clash… The Maelstrom huh?'

It was an exciting idea. He had never been to the coast before let alone out at sea. He'd learnt to swim proficiently, expertly even, but that had been inland.

'So Eudes Clarke says there is more to find in the Maelstrom? Then let's make an effort to take it.'