"So what is it? What do you truly desire?"
Those words echoed around me as I felt cold. The fat man's eyes seemed to lead him into another dimension. I saw what was waiting for me, and if I answered that question. I saw myself wearing the Imperial crown, sitting on a dark-steel throne. Soldiers and Aristocrats, Merchants and Artists all surrounded the palace, hoping to get a glimpse of him. I felt strong; I felt on top of the world. I felt like nothing could stop me.
I was abruptly pulled back into reality.
"I'll ask you one last time, my friend. What is it that you truly, with all your heart, Desire?"
That word, desire. It seemed to poke into my heart, as emotions that I'd long held, shackled within my heart, rushed to my head.
"I want.... I want to be emperor."
A sly grin formed on the bald barkeep's face,
"Oh, is that it? My friend, I could serve you the empire on a platter and the entire world, too. Sign a contract with me. And I shall show you what true power means, the power of a higher demon king."
At that moment. At the mention of the word contract, every memory of me learning about deities came into my head, from back in the academy.
Deities were horrible beings. They were false gods that attempted to poke at the Emperor's true divinity. The word 'contract' had been so harshly beaten down with negative affiliation into every single soldier, nay, citizen of the empire, that not a single human in the entire continent had signed a contract with one of these malicious beings, those who were an affront to the angelic kindness of the great Mæ Gazær.
I felt like my senses were finally back to normal. There was no longer an all-powerful deity in front of me. There was just a fat man who was possessed by a demon. My hand clutched my saber's hilt. I wasn't going to use it, it wasn't the barkeep's fault that this was happening. He just happened to be possessed by this demon.
"I need my food." I think he noticed my sentience come back to me. His grin went back to a neutral expression.
"My friend, you have no idea what powers lie inside you. Let me be the key that allows you to truly unlock your hidden strength. Then they'll all see you for who you are. Those that doubted, those that were jealous, and those that think you'll never be at their level."
Those words were tempting, but my mind didn't waver for a second.
"I would prefer not to cut down an innocent man. But if I have no choice but to do so. I won't hesitate a second." I made sure that my eyes were as steel-strong as possible.
"Well, I can't leave this man's body as of now. But I can promise you a safe lodging. I swear on my honour as a demon king."
I saw a wide grin plastered on his face. He could be lying, and demon kings were known for lying through their teeth. There was no way I could stay here. I had to leave as soon as possible. My left hand reached into the pouch strapped to my belt and grabbed out a couple of imperial ducats.
"This should cover my beer, I'm leaving."
I grabbed my mask and put it on. There was no way I was gonna stay another moment here.
"Wait, young man. This here is a ducat. This isn't the empire, and we won't tolerate anything but Geld."
"False god, if you were a deity, you would be omniscient enough to know that a ducat equals to more than ten geld. You can get urself a horse from the empire for those coins." I guess I was a bit too snarky. The bloated mass's face grew dark.
"Ahh, sure, my friend, but that doesn't account for the transport cost, taxes, and other levies I'd have to pay for any trade with the Empire. I'm sure you know the random taxes you imperials place on common goods could suck a celibate man dry."
I didn't want to stay in the same room as this man anymore. I grabbed another handful of coins from my pouch and plopped it down on the table.
"Thanks for your service." I glared at the fat man and his eyes, which seemed to want to swallow me whole.
I walked out. The pressure had finally subsided. I saw my steed, it was safe. That was good, anyway I need to leave this town.
That's when I noticed that all the clothes hangers were empty, the houses weren't lit up, and there wasn't a single person here. I got on my horse and trodded near the gate from where I entered.
The sleepy guards had disappeared. This was too ominous to be unrelated to the false-god. And he said he was a demon king, too. I had to run. I kicked my horse, and it started its canter.
I soon left the town and got into a full gallop, the wind blowing against my cape. The frost was burning my eyes through my mask. It was a weird feeling. I knew not taking that deal was a good decision, but something about that entire interaction was poking at my heart strings.
My speed soon exceeded 100 miles per hour, the frost kept blowing at my face. This wasn't that bad of a thing, considering the chill kept my eyes from closing shut. I was passing through a desert one moment, and a couple minutes later a grotto.
There were no Zenith on this route. In the frontlines of the East-West War, Zenith were more collateral damage than actual threats. My horse was too swift for any combatants to even comprehend before I vanished beyond the horizon.
___
"Urgh", my grunt sounded more like a large hog giving birth. I did exactly what Antares taught me. I put my left leg forward and balanced my body as the short sword in my right hand was thrust into the training dummy.
"Ooh", I made a weird sound again as I flung my entire body, as I missed the target entirely.
"That's unsightly." Commented Arafat. Even the man who rarely spoke had to leave a snarky comment about my lack of talent. The cut had completely healed due to the magic I possessed, and now I was being coached in two ways of sword fighting. The usage of short swords and the art of precise, fast strikes under Arafat. And the skill of cutting your enemy vertically in half through the use of a longsword, by Antares.
"You still have a long way to go, but I think I know what your fault is." Chimed in Arafat, from on his wheelchair.
"It would probably be better to tell me what my mistakes are than to comment on how long my journey to sword king is." I grinned, clearly proud of my aptitude in awesome comments.
Arafat opened his mouth again,
"Well, it's simple. You are trying to use both of our styles and merge them. The way of the serpent is very different from the brutish way Anatares waves his sword, and you involving steps taught by Antares into the way of the serpent leads to your downfall." I don't know if I was wrong, but I swear I could've seen a hint of a smile on Arafat's face.
Antares was smiling, too.
"Ahh yes, the way of acting like a serpent to catch your opponent off guard only works when you're in a one-on-one fight. Try using it in a large battlefield, and watch ur body penetrated by a dozen arrows, and cut down by three swords."
"Watch your mouth, Antares. Don't forget who taught you that brutish way of fighting. Although, I seem to regret it more day after day."
At this point, Antares blew up laughing.
Arafat made a sound to signify his dismay and wheeled himself away.
"Well, then let's go on, pick up that longsword, and we can practise feints."
I couldn't. My body felt like it would break apart.
"Sir, Zekros said I had to report to work on mana control. May I go?" I decided to be as respectful as possible.
___
The skinny kid with dark shortly cut hair was approaching.
The twin... I mean... Arafat told me that Altair was making some amount of steady progress in the way of the sword over the past week. Unfortunately it wasn't reflecting the same in the realm of magic.
The kid hollered from a distance,
"Zekros, let's work on mana formation again."
___
"Concentrate, think about thunder that shocks the strongest trees, the flames that ravage entire towns, the water that purifies, the earth that gives life, and the wind that breaks past the boundaries of man."
I was working on shaping mana with Zekros. Shaping mana was the most basic element of conjuring an element, which then was the basic part of making a spell.
After shaping mana, we could give it form through one of the attributes of nature or maybe even something beyond. This was the precursor to creating huge, powerful spells. I needed to master this basic aspect of magic. But somehow, I always got my conscious sidetracked.
SPLASH
The mana exploded. I could see Zekros' disappointed expression again.
"Look at me again. I'll show you how again, don't fuck up this time."
He had kindness, I could give him that. He was kind of prideful, but it was that same pride that made it possible for him to be such a good teacher. His superiority complex contrasted with his tendency to help those he considered below him.
He placed his hands in a bullish pose and seemed to be focusing his mana at the tip of his arm.
"Fire." He said as the drop of mana transformed into a small flame at his fingertips
"Water." And the flame emerged as a concentrated droplet of water, floating around his finger.
"Earth." The droplet slowly gained an outer shell and transformed into a small rock.
"Thunder." The rock suddenly flew towards the sky in a flash of bright light.
"So you understand now?"
I was confused.
"Wait, where was wind? And also, why did you shoot out the lightning instead of keeping around your finger."
"That's an interesting question, but it means you weren't paying attention to my demonstration. The wind was always there, it was what was moving the water and the rock. It was also what preserved the shape of the flame. And the reason for thunder shooting out was, as an element, it's extremely volatile and is in a continually excited state, and has to be mobile for it to not detonate. It's also the most challenging to conquer. But I've seen higher-ranked thunder mages use static electricity."
That was interesting. Thunder was the hardest school of magic, and he had preferred it as his route. I felt like I understoond Zekros a bit more now.
His voice boomed again.
"What're you staring at, kid? Get back to the foundation. Now try again, with your entire concentration."
___
I had reached the main base of the Eastern Guild. The journey after that demon-dwelling town wasn't very eventful. I slew a couple of low-ranked Zenith for fun and was drawn into a couple of battles between the East and the West's forces. Needless to say, the side I was on always won.
I was now standing in front of the door to the Baron's office. Two heavily armoured warriors stood on both sides of a door, armed with a battle axe each. Their eyes pierced my armour and struck my heart. Not like I cared about them, though. I could take them out in a minute if I wanted.
Inside the room, a fat blob of meat sat on a throne that had to be uncomfortable. No way that felt good to sit on. Beside his royal attire stood a scholarly-looking kid wearing brown unironed clothes.
"Baron. I'm Rex-1913, an inquisitor, and I've been sent by the Empire to escort you to the Imperial Palace."