Attack

The youth was a freshman who had entered the academy just last month, but unexpectedly, he was not a Ranger.

He was a Priest.

This, however, helped Lanlos understand the source of the boy's charm. At the very least, it restored some of his psychological balance...

All Priests possess high Charisma, not only because the status of a Priest is inherently respected, but because their power is derived from faith. Taking Quel'Thalas as an example, almost all Priests hold the Sunwell as their object of faith, singing of her beauty and hope, praising her tolerance and justice. The stronger this positive spiritual conviction, the more one's behavior is naturally influenced, and the world consequently places greater importance on their status; in other words, their Charisma is higher.

Likewise, the higher the Charisma, the deeper the Priest's spirit influences their mana, and the more powerful the Holy magic they wield becomes. Positive conviction and Charisma strengthen the Light, while negative conviction and Charisma naturally strengthen the Shadow. However, this positive or negative alignment does not seem to be influenced by social ethics, but rather by personal perspective. Much like the Scarlet Crusade of later generations, they wielded powerful Holy magic while committing many acts that the world found unacceptable.

In short, according to this youth, the reason he came to the back mountain was because of a girl. Egged on by his classmates, he wanted to cater to her interests and use a lynx cub as a gift to make friends.

Yes, just to make friends...

But the other "friends" he spoke of did not help; they merely "urged" him repeatedly to bring defensive equipment. A moment of impulse caused him to ignore the academy's rules, and now, having realized this, the youth sat slumped on the ground in utter despair, recounting his "crimes" with tears in his eyes.

If not for the Sargerite, Lanlos might have dismissed this kid as a poor actor playing the hindsight card to avoid responsibility and punishment. But the Keystone's life-form identification told him that the boy was genuinely distressed.

"I, I really didn't think things would turn out like this. I just wanted to give Thalyss a unique gift for her birthday. It's all my fault, I didn't think it would be like this..."

Heh, so what if he has 15 Charisma? He still ends up being a sucker.

Struggling to keep his mouth from curling upward, Lanlos interrupted his increasingly frantic rambling: "Stop! Listen, knowing you're wrong is enough. I'm not a meddlesome person; you don't need to go on like this."

"But aren't you an instructor?" The youth froze, then looked at the other with an incredulous gaze.

Lanlos raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly: "Oh? Why would you think that?"

"Uh, I, I guessed." He couldn't exactly say that only an instructor would have that fierce, murderous look he had just displayed, could he?

Being mistaken for an instructor proved his Charisma from another angle, and Lanlos felt a long-lost sense of joy: "Haha! Don't be afraid, I'm just a teaching assistant. And since you aren't my student, why would I care so much? Go on, head back."

Seeing Lanlos wave his hand impatiently, the youth finally breathed a sigh of relief, offered his thanks, and prepared to leave.

"Wait!" Suddenly calling him back, Lanlos wore a helpless expression. "You're really planning to keep carrying that thing?"

Glancing at the curved blade at his waist, the youth realized the impropriety. Night patrols were extremely strict; if he were discovered, the consequences for a student wandering at night while armed would likely be severe.

"But you..."

"Didn't I say? I'm a teaching assistant, not a student."

"Then I'll trouble you with it." Lanlos's words successfully convinced the youth, who hesitated for only a brief moment before unbuckling the curved blade and handing it to Lanlos.

The latter drew it slightly to inspect it closely, asking casually as he did so: "By the way, what's your name? I'll find a time to return it to you later."

"Lirath!"

"I'm Lanlos. If I don't remember, just come find me." Nodding, Lanlos's gaze lingered on the half-drawn blade. The bright moonlight reflected off it, and the gleaming steel emitted a bone-chilling cold.

The lines of the blade possessed the graceful beauty of a willow leaf, while the width of the upper half was noticeably widened to effectively increase the force of a strike. As Lanlos drew and swung it, the air tore with an extremely faint sound. The superb handling made him offer sincere praise, as well as a sense of regret.

This was a fine weapon, far better than the standard-issue gear of the Farstriders. That it would end up in the hands of a Priest was a true waste of a treasure.

Shaking his head, Lanlos sheathed it, but a line of small characters on the scabbard left him frozen in place.

Windrunner Blade, a gift for my dearest brother. -- Alleria Windrunner

His entire body went still. Lanlos stared at the direction where the youth had disappeared, remaining silent for a long time.

Lirath Windrunner, the fourth Windrunner brother, and the only son of the direct line—a winner in life who was showered with endless affection.

He hadn't expected to run into him here. Lanlos's expression was somewhat strange. Not only had this kid "defected" to become a Priest despite being a Windrunner, but he was also far too naive. By rights, as a child of a great family, his social skills were truly painful to witness.

And he still had 15 Charisma with that? That was nearly double his own numerical value! Nonsense...

Fiddling with the exquisite curved blade in his hand, the intense jealousy on Lanlos's face was visible to anyone with eyes.

Returning to the dormitory, Lirath finally had the leisure to wipe the sweat from his forehead. An average person might find it hard to understand why he was so terrified of "making a mistake." Only he knew just how immense his pressure was.

Hearing no sound from his roommates, Lirath was just feeling puzzled when a voice that made his hair stand on end suddenly rang out: "Where have you been?"

By the window, the Elven Ranger showed only her back to the group, yet despite this, none of the roommates who usually boasted of their courage dared to look her in the eye.

"Sister?" Even though the night breeze blew against his face, the sweat on Lirath's temples remained thick.

This was the source of his pressure.

Unlike the doting of his parents and eldest sister, Vereesa and he were both still at an age where they had not yet participated in war or taken control of their own lives. The biggest difference was that she was older than him, and her strength was the pride of the academy, while he was just a newcomer. One of the reasons he chose to become a Priest was because the family's expectations for a Ranger were too high.

But who would have thought that coming to Fastherin would be the beginning of a nightmare?

"Where did the Windrunner Blade go?" Vereesa turned around at some point, her gaze lingering for a moment on his empty waist before she asked. Her tone could not be called cold, but it lacked even a hint of warmth.

Alleria had once urged Vereesa to look after Lirath at the academy, which should have been fine. But ever since she learned her brother had become a Priest, Vereesa's attitude had done a complete one-eighty. She understood why her brother made such a choice, but avoidance and weakness were the attitudes she despised most. Especially when she thought of how the family doted on this youngest brother, her anger only flared higher.

Of course, it wasn't out of envy, but because she believed this very doting was what allowed Lirath's cowardice to fester. For this reason, she had "misinterpreted" Alleria's instructions, and almost every chance she got, she would "take good care" of this good-for-nothing brother.

And this was precisely why Lirath's agility had reached the level of an Apprentice Ranger.

Appearing in the academy late at night with a weapon was a troublesome affair. Even though Lanlos was a teaching assistant, as a new face, he could not avoid the guards' questioning. Looking at the dormitory ahead, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

However, the moment he grabbed the doorknob, his nerves suddenly tightened. A sensation like needles on his back gradually converged from a direction behind him. Yet, he did not panic; instead, he revealed a cold smile.

A Perception of 15 was not just for show.

Whoosh!

The moment he pushed the door open, a faint whistling sound cut through the air from the bushes behind him. Lanlos dodged to the side almost simultaneously, his right hand thrusting violently toward the shadow that had suddenly appeared.

Boom!

The air rippled like waves, and a powerful impact whipped up a gale, slamming into the intruder. A muffled grunt followed as the shadow was sent flying instantly.

Force Impact—beyond its damage, its knockback effect on medium-sized creatures was its most practical utility.

"Committing assault in Fastherin? You've got some nerve." Looking at the figure in black, face obscured by a mask and hood, Lanlos felt no tension, only curiosity. After all, this was his first such encounter; he had only ever seen black-clad assassins on television. Besides, his left hand, held behind his back, was already crackling with fine, dancing currents of electricity.

Seemingly surprised by the target's swift reaction and casting speed, the shadow remained silent for a moment, her slender legs sinking slightly into a stance.

Although the light was dim, the opponent was highly unprofessional, failing to mask her charging movements at all. Realizing she was no professional killer—and noting that she only reached his chest in height with very slender limbs—Lanlos relaxed further.

She pushed off with her toes, her speed so great that her movements blurred in his vision. A whistling gust of force struck straight toward Lanlos's face.

Snap!

He raised the scabbard of his Windrunner Blade to block the attack. An unexpected weight transferred to his hand, forcing his right arm to sink; the intruder's weapon landed squarely on his shoulder.

Stung by the pain, he instinctively slapped his left hand toward her chest.

"Ah!!"

A high-pitched scream that threatened to pierce his eardrums tore through the night. Despite the current surging through her body, she only swayed. A faint shimmer of protective magic flashed over her, and she retreated immediately, suffering no lingering paralysis or aftereffects. Of course, she was currently clutching a wooden stick in one hand and shielding her chest with the other, staring at the mage with eyes so bloodshot they seemed ready to drip, as if she wanted to tear him apart.

A wooden stick? A woman?

Glancing at the weapon in her hand, Lanlos raised his own, looking at his empty palm, and reflexively made a phantom grasping motion.

"You shameless scoundrel! Die!"

Ignoring the danger of exposure, the woman shrieked, gripping the wooden stick with both hands and thrusting it toward Lanlos's lower abdomen. Like a cuckoo crying blood, she seemed determined to take him down with her.

It was only a wooden stick, but if it actually struck his dantian, his happiness for the rest of his life would be hard to guarantee.

With no time to think, Lanlos waved his hand, and an oval, shimmering shield enveloped him completely just before the attack landed.

Crack!

Seeing his shield spell punctured by a single strike of a wooden stick, Lanlos couldn't help but gasp. Even though it was only a 1st-circle spell, it was a defensive barrier he had struggled to break himself after five or six full-force kicks. What incredible strength this girl possessed!

Stunned, Lanlos dared not slacken. He chanted an obscure incantation, and mana converged toward his hand at top speed.

But he never expected the girl to be so fierce. She twisted her body and delivered a side kick, shattering the shield at the breach and slamming her foot into his chest. Although the shield spell had absorbed much of the force, the sharp pain severed his connection to his mana. The gathered energy dissipated instantly, violently recoiling against his consciousness.

Seeing him grunt and stumble back, the shadow was overjoyed. She pressed the attack, swinging the wooden stick toward his "wicked" left hand. Judging by the momentum, if that blow landed, a fracture was all but guaranteed.

However, she failed to notice that, amidst the mental strain and momentary confusion, a terrifying, eerie green glint flashed in Lanlos's eyes.

Clang!

The black-clad figure froze. The Windrunner Blade stood firmly against the wooden stick. Unlike his failed block earlier, this time, even while holding the blade with one hand, he parried her attack completely.

At the same time, Lanlos let out a low growl. His other hand, like a striking viper, clamped onto her wrist. With a full-body twist, he executed a one-handed back-throw, slamming her hard against the ground.

The impact was devastating. The intruder felt as if her entire body had fallen apart, and a pained cry escaped her lips. Yet, sensing him moving to pin her down, instinctive panic and humiliation fueled her will. Enduring the pain, she lashed out with a kick toward his head.

Forced to retreat, Lanlos had to abandon the pin and jump back.

Having driven the mage away, the intruder scrambled to her feet. After casting a final, murderous glare, she turned and sprinted into the night. Watching the shadow vanish into the woods, Lanlos massaged his aching chest, choosing not to pursue. Her physical coordination and agility were far superior to his own in that environment.

However, he had not come away empty-handed.

Opening his tightly clenched fist, a single, incredibly fine strand of hair fluttered in the wind, shimmering with a brilliant silver hue in the moonlight.

Vereesa hid in the shadows of a thick tree trunk. After confirming no one was following, she finally let out a breath, though her beautiful face wore an expression of deep resentment.

She had underestimated this mage who had just entered the academy. She had assumed that with her skills, which met the standards of the Farstriders, sneaking up behind him and knocking him out with a sap would be child's play. Who would have thought his vigilance would be so high? And in an environment like the academy? Was he suffering from paranoid delusions?

Damn it! If this weren't the academy, I would make sure you suffered a miserable death!

She stroked her budding chest; the tingling sensation felt like a maggot burrowing into her bones, and the intense humiliation nearly drove her mad.

Throwing the wooden stick away in anger, fury burned on her face. When it came to archery, no elf in the entire academy was better than her, but that would have been lethal, and that was not her intention. She only wanted to retrieve that curved blade. It was a weapon Alleria had specifically commissioned as a farewell gift for Lirath. Even though the boy had ended up becoming a priest, it shouldn't remain in the hands of others.

Especially since this person was a surveillance target specifically mentioned by Sarell. Handing her sister's gift to such a rogue was an absolute insult!

Vereesa clenched her fists, wishing she could turn back right now and hack off that man's filthy hand.

In her eyes, the man was an assistant instructor; if his character weren't rotten to the core, he wouldn't have used a 1st-circle spell to touch her body!

Her undergarments were enchanted with energy resistance equivalent to an intermediate spell. If he had used a long-range offensive spell, she likely could have ignored the magic cast in such a short time and successfully stunned her target. But that guy had chosen to parry, and with his hand, no less...

If Lanlos knew her thoughts, he would surely cry out in grievance. Heaven is his witness, he hadn't even scheduled his study of 2nd-circle spells yet. Shocking Grasp was his most effective means of subduing a target. Fireball? Arcane Missiles? He had successfully parried directed magic like that himself before.