Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 889: The Showstarter
Previously on Return of the Runebound Professor...
“You cannot be serious,” Brayden exclaimed. “Mandatory? That’s ridiculous! Why would I want to go schmooze with a bunch of the other competitors?”
“It’s not the competitors you’ll be rubbing noses with,” Fist said with a weary sigh. “It’s the ones who funded the tournament. All the people looking for their new disciple. Faction Heads and their ilk, not to mention the roaming mages and other powerhouses that might be looking for a way to bolster their cities or families.”
“I don’t have any more interest in speaking with them than I do with the other people fighting in the tournament,” Brayden muttered. He let out a groan and dropped into one of the chairs with a thunk. “What a waste of time and energy. And the masks won’t even shield us from the important folk, meaning we can’t tell them to pound sand.”
“Well, you can. That’ll just come with consequences,” Fist said with a dry laugh. “Trust me. I’ve done it a few times. One doesn’t get landed on a team with Mordred without pissing a few people off in the process.”
“Don’t get disappointed too early,” Noah said slowly. “This might not be a terrible thing, Brayden. It could actually work to our advantage. All the competitors are going to be there. of them.”
“Thousands,” Fist pointed out. “If you’re looking for anyone in particular, you’ll be pretty hard pressed to pull it off. They probably weren’t joking about the quality of their masks. Even Mordred would have trouble seeing through them.”
“That’s quite fine,” Noah said. There was more than one way to locate somebody, after all. If every single competitor was going to be in the masquerade, then he could think of a number of different methods that had a decent chance of at least spreading enough rumors to reach the right ears — and only one or two of them would end in killing himself.
“Right,” Fist said slowly. It seemed she didn’t much like the sound of Noah’s voice. “Just don’t go dragging me into anything too bad. We’re part of the same room. I figure the Faction Heads and their ilk are going to know who is from where. Don’t need the Prophet any more pissed at me and the team than she already is.”
“What are you thinking?” Brayden asked, looking up at Noah with a flicker of hope. “You think we could somehow use this to find...”
He trailed off.
“Can’t hurt to try,” Noah replied with a shrug. “But we’ve got to prepare. There’s an hour before this thing starts. That should be more than enough.”
“Precisely,” Lee said. “And it starts with answering some very important questions.”
“Like what?” Fist asked.
“How is Spider going to wear a mask when he’s already got one?” Lee asked, pointing to Noah. “Will they give him a magic hat? Or will he have to wear two masks at once?”
The three of them paused for a moment.
That was a good question.
***
Vivian interlaced her fingers and leaned back against the wall of the enormous masquerade hall. By most definitions of the word, enormous wasn’t even sufficient to describe it. The room was enormous. More than a hundred large, circular tables lined the back end of it, all laden with food for the tournament’s competitors. They were just far enough from each other to allow for easy communication.
Large swathes of smooth ground had been cleared for those who preferred to wander around and mingle, and the room had been broken up into large sections that would help absorb some of the sound and separate the groups that would inevitably form out a little bit.
Around a hundred mages were already present. They were the seekers. Among them were the other Faction Heads, already disguised and milling about the room as they prepared to examine their targets. Many of them had already identified a mage that they had some middling interest in — though nothing would be set in stone until the tournament progressed farther. This was just a cursory glance for them.
The ones that would be really hunting right now were the weakest of the strong. The independent mages and the groups that were looking to recruit new flesh for one reason or another. They’d be hoping to pick up some promising new talent before any of the stronger mages made their move.
As for Vivian, there was only a single thing on her mind. There was someone using the Beyond to screw with her, and she was certain that they’d be present at the masquerade. This banquet would gather together all three brackets of the tournament. Rank 4s would be mixed in with 7s. And her target was indubitably amongst the strongest mages in the room.
For that matter, there was a very, very good chance that they were here. She didn’t have any proof to know that the one using the Beyond wasn’t one of the people who had come here to recruit new talent. That was a chilling thought.
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The Beyond was Vivian’s weapon, solely under her command. Entrusting its power to anyone else was unthinkable. If word of it spread… if even the slightest misunderstanding of its function occurred, it could gain a deeper foothold in the Mortal Plane. Vivian shuddered at the potential catastrophe.
Vivian would have preferred to dedicate the entire masquerade to their pursuit. However, other pressing matters demanded her attention. Too many eyes were upon her. Even concealed by a deer mask and with her power dampened, the other Faction Heads were aware of her presence, just as she was aware of theirs.
Furthermore, the Beyond user wasn’t her sole concern at this moment. The Rank 7 and above bracket had commenced, including the Apostles among them. She remained utterly clueless about their objective; there seemed to be nothing for them in this place.
Yet, their Prophet wouldn't have guided them here without cause. They sought something, and its identity remained a mystery to her.
Vivian fought the urge to clench her hands. The intricate web of events was overwhelming. Her attempts to contact Renewal had yielded no response; the goddess seldom did. But if Decras was somehow entangled in this affair, Renewal would surely have intervened.
Whatever unfolded, it was Vivian’s burden to bear, and hers alone.
Noah felt the ground vanish beneath him for a fleeting instant. It reappeared just as swiftly, sending a subtle vibration up his legs. He blinked away the dancing green motes of light, his expression a grimace behind the cloth mask.
An hour had passed since Baun’s declaration. As expected, a wave of magic had enveloped him and the others precisely on schedule. However, the magic hadn't deposited him where he anticipated. Instead of a masquerade hall, Noah found himself in a modest, unassuming room.
Several crates lined the walls, overflowing with costumes haphazardly discarded within. Numerous animal masks adorned the walls and were strewn across the floor. Directly before him, with his back turned, stood a short man possessing the most exceptionally frizzy hair Noah had ever encountered.
“I’m your outfitter. Let’s make this swift. I have numerous individuals to process this evening. You’ll require an outfit,” the short man stated, rummaging through a box. “Choose something. Put it on. Select a mask as well. They’re all identical. Any one will suffice.”
“Is it necessary?” Noah inquired, surveying the surroundings. “I believe I brought my own.”
The short man expelled a sigh of profound weariness, clearly indicating he had fielded similar inquiries countless times before.
“Absolutely not. Whatever poor excuse for attire you acquired for a pittance in some remote village cannot compare to what we possess here,” he asserted, still facing away. “Our robes are imbued by skilled Imbuers and rigorously tested to meet essential standards. They will ensure your identity and your magic remain concealed. We cannot permit any magical leakage. It leads to complications.”
Noah’s gaze fell upon the garments. Despite their disordered state within the crates, they appeared to be of superior craftsmanship. Yet, compared to what Eliana had fashioned for him… these were little more than scraps.
“I believe I shall manage perfectly well,” Noah declared. “And I find the notion of wearing double masks rather unappealing. I’d resemble a complete fool.”
The short man finally turned around.
He stopped abruptly.
His eyes widened considerably.
A full second passed with neither man moving. Then, the short man practically threw himself toward Noah, eager to examine his attire more closely. He scrutinized the clothes for several intense moments before his gaze snapped up to Noah’s face.
“By the gods above and below,” he whispered reverently. “What — who crafted these?”
“Am I obligated to answer that?”
The other man hesitated. He visibly regained his composure.
“No. No, certainly not. I became overly excited. My apologies. I didn’t anticipate encountering anything of this caliber here. Please accept my apologies for my earlier intrusion. You cannot imagine the shoddy items I’ve been presented with. Your attire is more than adequate. Anything created by such a master will undoubtedly meet our requirements.”
“Thank you,” Noah replied. “Merely out of curiosity, what occurs if someone removes their mask?”
“The masks serve to safeguard your identity. However, our primary concern is not your face but the concealment of your magical energy — and that is the function of the robes. Just refrain from disrobing, understood?” The man chuckled heartily. “If you wish to expose your face, that is entirely your prerogative.”
“Understood,” Noah said. “I shall bear that in mind.”
“No need to adopt such a serious tone,” the other man remarked with a knowing grin. “What, do you anticipate someone will engage in public stripping? I highly doubt it.”
“One can never be entirely certain,” Noah responded.
“And if I refuse?” the Imbuer countered. “I would genuinely like to linger and converse further. It’s an uncommon sight to encounter attire of such superior craftsmanship. Whoever fashioned that… never mind. It’s not my concern. You shall be on your way. There is a great deal to accomplish this evening, after all. I wish you the very best in your masquerade endeavors.”
With a flick of his hand, he made a gesture.
A wave of energy cascaded over Noah, and the surroundings dissolved and reformed.
A cacophony of sound assaulted him like a physical barrier. He blinked, his vision clearing behind the disguise as he reoriented himself. The cramped chamber had vanished. In its stead stood a colossal hall, so immense that the far wall was lost to his sight from his current position.
A vast and ever-increasing throng of sorcerers, adorned in diverse masks, surrounded him, with more materializing by the moment. Brayden and Lee were nowhere to be seen. It appeared they had been dispatched here independently.
However, that was acceptable. They were aware of their roles. And as for Lee… an intuition suggested she would not be difficult to locate.
Noah straightened his lapel. A subtle grin then graced his lips.
The time for initiation had arrived.