Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 888: Mixing

Noah found himself unable to contain his laughter. Amongst all the individuals Mordred could have encountered, Bird’s appearance first seemed strangely fitting. The world teemed with powerful mages, and Noah could barely fathom the sheer danger lurking within Obsidia. Given the vast knowledge and time they possessed beyond Arbalest, it was hardly surprising that formidable mages would be plentiful.

Yet, it appeared Bird remained the only one who shed her clothes the instant a battle commenced.

“Bird?” Fist inquired, her gaze shifting between Noah and Brayden with undisguised surprise. “You know her? Seriously?”

“Yes,” Noah confirmed. “She’s an old friend. I’m happy to hear she’s progressed this far. What did Mordred say about her? Did her match conclude successfully?”

Fist remained silent for a few moments, her expression unreadable as she presumably communicated with Mordred. Then, a sigh escaped her lips, a sound that straddled the line between amusement and astonishment. “Preposterous. Yes, she performed admirably. It appears she possesses considerable talent. Mordred was particularly intrigued by the technique she employed; he’d never witnessed its like before.”

“Is that so?” Noah mused. While he was relieved Bird was safe, he had no intention of divulging their secrets to Mordred. There was simply no need to reveal too much about Bird or her exceedingly peculiar habit, especially if it necessitated explanations. Noah felt a degree of responsibility for Bird's current path, a burden he preferred to leave behind in Arbalest. He did, however, wish to begin restoring Vermil’s reputation within Obsidia.

“Indeed,” Fist replied. “He is exceedingly curious. How do you know her? And what is this technique she utilizes?”

Noah shook his head. “That is something he is welcome to inquire about directly once he has fulfilled his end of the agreement. I won’t guarantee any answers, but he may ask if that’s how he wishes to expend his questions. I have no intention of carelessly disclosing my friends’ abilities without good reason.”

“That… is reasonable,” Fist conceded. She offered a slight shrug, though Noah remained uncertain whether the sentiment originated from her or Mordred.

“Who else?” Lee interjected. “Were there other powerhouses that truly stood out? You haven’t even selected anyone particularly formidable.”

Fist shot Lee a sharp glance. “What is that supposed to mean? Not strong? You believe Bird is weak? Her performance was more than significant for her tier. Mordred made it clear she was a strong contender for a Rank 5, capable of holding her own against some Rank 6s under specific conditions. Does that seem substandard to you?”

Lee offered no verbal response to Fist’s query. Instead, she procured more sustenance from the tray she had ordered and began to eat. Fist observed her with narrowed eyes for a moment before inclining her head.

“There were a few others who distinguished themselves,” Fist stated. “A fire mage. Exceptionally potent.”

“Male?” Noah inquired, striving to maintain a composed tone.

“Female,” Fist responded. “Blonde hair. Somewhat psychopathic. She joined a large contingent and then unleashed a massive explosion within their midst, eliminating dozens of competitors simultaneously. There’s a strong probability she caused instant fatalities for many. She is a Rank 6, and not on the lower end of that spectrum.”

“I see,” Noah acknowledged. “Anything further regarding her?”

“She engaged in a fierce duel with an Ice Mage. Neither managed to secure a victory. Both advanced to the subsequent round of the tournament when they failed to land a decisive blow and a sufficient number of other combatants in their arena were eliminated.”

Noah nodded absently. The ice wielder was certainly not Emily. It was highly improbable she had reached Rank 6 by now, and even if she had, she lacked the inclination to engage in an all-out confrontation with such a formidable opponent in the initial round. Her strategic mind would have dictated a more cautious approach, picking off opponents from the sidelines while avoiding the fray.

“Alright. What else?”

“Many. Literally hundreds, and those are merely the individuals who showcased sufficient power to immediately capture his attention. This does not encompass anyone concealing their true strength, which will undoubtedly be the majority of the truly formidable competitors.” Fist pursed her lips, remaining silent for several seconds. “He believes you might have a particular interest in a man who participated in one of the later rounds. He has scales like a lizard. Either he has undergone extreme Body Imbuements or possesses some profoundly aberrant Runes that are causing his body to warp. He reportedly resembles a creature between a lizard and a human.”

“What about this man?” Brayden inquired.

“His magical abilities are peculiar,” Fist stated. She helped herself to a croissant from Lee’s plate. “Mordred could barely sense him fighting. He remained stationary in a corner of the arena for the majority of the bout. However, anyone who attempted to approach him or even ventured too close began to… dissolve.”

“Melting?” Noah inquired. “As in, from intense heat?”

“Nay. It was as if their corporeal forms were simply dissolving, decaying into nothingness. A truly grim spectacle, I assure you,” Fist responded. “Mordred, who isn’t easily fazed, has witnessed far more than I care to acknowledge from his research. If he deems something peculiar or repulsive, then it truly is. It’s highly probable that this individual wields a sickness rune of some description.”

“Any insights into its mechanism or the mage’s power level?” Noah probed.

Fist responded with a shake of her head. “None whatsoever. It’s conceivable he merely targeted lesser mages. His power signature was remarkably elusive. He’s likely proficient in Soul Shaping.”

“Noted,” Noah affirmed. “So, we must all exercise caution against the reptilian fellow. His sorcery might prove ineffectual against our established domains… yet, if he’s achieved considerable success, his own domain must be quite formidable.”

“That aligns with Mordred’s hypothesis,” Fist conceded. “However, this is precisely why he advises against excessive focus too soon. It’s easy to become fixated on an opponent who might not even warrant the attention.”

“I understand his reasoning,” Noah relented. “Still, I’d appreciate further details on any encounters. We haven’t exactly got pressing matters at hand. We’re merely awaiting—”

A sudden, brilliant crimson flash split the sky. All eyes swiveled toward the window, witnessing a radiant orb of energy detonate high above the arena, projecting a colossal image of Baun’s mustachioed visage. The spectator stands, which had been bustling moments before, were now entirely vacant.

“My esteemed combatants!” Baun’s voice boomed, his smile seeming to stretch across the heavens. Noah suppressed a grimace, noting the unsettling realism of the magical projection; individual hairs in the man’s magnificent mustache were discernible. “My gratitude for your patience and my congratulations! The inaugural phase of this tournament has now concluded!”

Lee, casting a glance at her plate, found it completely empty, the repast she’d ordered minutes prior vanished. She deliberately reached out and tugged the cord beside the table once more.

“The subsequent round of this grand competition will commence on the morrow. Details concerning the matchups and stipulations shall be disseminated in the morning,” Baun continued. His immense facial projection pivoted, surveying all those gathered in anticipation. “However, the day is far from over. Several hours of prime time remain… and I suspect we all understand the true reason for your presence here. None wish to languish alone in their chambers, idly awaiting the next exciting event. After all, every spectator is currently reveling and reveling in Aqua Terra! Is it not fitting that you partake in the same?”

“No,” Brayden muttered, though his words were lost to the wind, unheard by Baun. “Not in the slightest. That sounds utterly dreadful.”

“Here at Aqua Terra, we firmly believe that every mage performs at their zenith when they feel their absolute best,” Baun declared, his grin widening. “Consequently, we extend a heartfelt invitation to each and every one of you who has progressed this far to attend a grand masquerade! Is this not thrilling?”

“Oh, heavens,” Fist muttered, a distinct note of distaste in her voice. “That sounds positively repulsive.”

“Now, I am certain many of you harbor concerns regarding the preservation of your identities and the safeguarding of your interests. To that end, masks shall be compulsory, and the employment of any magical abilities is strictly prohibited,” Baun elaborated. “These masks are magically imbued to distort your voices, rendering you indistinguishable to all save the esteemed benefactors observing from the audience. A masquerade would lose its allure if one could not engage in lively conversation, would it not? The Faction Heads themselves will grace us with their presence, alongside numerous other formidable mages with whom I would relish the opportunity to exchange pleasantries. Therefore, prepare yourselves! This represents your initial opportunity to engage with potential future employers and mentors. Ensure you make a memorable impression!”

“I shall abstain,” Brayden announced resolutely. “That sounds—”

“All participants will be instantaneously transported from their quarters to the masquerade hall within the hour. Ensure you attend to your grooming and preparations promptly. And one final directive.” Baun delivered a knowing wink before his visage dissolved, leaving his parting words to reverberate. “Attendance is unequivocally mandatory.”