Ambush

The boy was the new student who had entered the academy last month. To Lanlos's surprise, however, he wasn't a ranger.

He was a priest.

That did help Lanlos understand where the boy's charm came from. At least it made him feel a little better...

All priests had high Charisma. It wasn't just that the priesthood was inherently respected; priests drew their power from faith. In Quel'Thalas, for example, nearly every priest regarded the Sunwell as an object of faith, singing of her goodness and hope and praising her tolerance and justice. The stronger these positive convictions, the more they naturally shaped a person's actions. People also held priests in higher regard because of it. In other words, they had more Charisma.

Likewise, the higher a priest's Charisma, the more deeply their mind could influence magic, and the more powerful their Holy Light spells became. Positive convictions strengthened Holy Light, while negative convictions naturally strengthened shadow magic. But this distinction didn't seem to have anything to do with social ethics. It depended on one's personal beliefs. Take the Scarlet Crusade in later years, for instance. They wielded the mighty power of Holy Light, yet did many things the world found hard to accept.

Anyway, according to the boy, he'd come to the back hill because of a girl. At his classmates' urging, he'd decided to win her favor by giving her a lynx cub as a gift and making friends with her.

Well, just making friends...

But the other friends he'd mentioned hadn't helped him. They'd only kept "reminding" him to bring something to defend himself. A moment's impulse had made him forget the academy's rules. Now that he'd come to his senses, the boy slumped on the ground in utter despair, nearly in tears as he confessed his "crime."

Without Sargerite, Lanlos might have taken the kid for a two-bit actor, playing the regretful fool after the fact to dodge responsibility and punishment. But the Keystone's ability to identify living beings told him the boy was genuinely upset.

"I-I really didn't think things would turn out like this. I just wanted to give Thalyss an unusual present for her birthday. It's all my fault. I never thought it would come to this..."

Hah. So what if his Charisma was 15? He still had to give gifts to get anywhere.

Doing his best to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up, Lanlos cut off the boy's increasingly fervent confession. "Stop! Listen, it's good that you know you were wrong. I'm not the sort to meddle in other people's business. You don't have to go on like this."

"But aren't you an instructor?" The boy froze, then stared at him in disbelief.

Lanlos arched a brow and narrowed his eyes. "Oh? What makes you think that?"

"Uh, I-I just guessed." He couldn't exactly say, You looked so fierce just now, you had to be an instructor.

Being mistaken for an instructor was proof of his own charm, too. Lanlos felt happy for the first time in ages. "Haha! Don't be scared. I'm only a teaching assistant, and you're not even my student. Why would I go out of my way to lecture you? Come on, let's head back."

At Lanlos's impatient wave, the boy finally let out a breath of relief. He thanked him and started to leave.

"Wait!" Lanlos suddenly called after him, wearing a helpless expression. "You're really planning to keep carrying that thing?"

The boy glanced at the curved blade at his waist and realized the problem. The night patrols were strict. If he got caught wandering around the academy after dark with a weapon, the consequences would be serious.

"But you..."

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

"Then I'm sorry for the trouble." Lanlos's explanation convinced the boy. After only a brief hesitation, he removed the curved blade from his waist and handed it over.

Lanlos drew it a short way from its sheath and examined it carefully. Casually, he asked, "By the way, what's your name? I'll find a time to return it to you."

"Lirath!"

"I'm Lanlos. If I forget, just come find me." Lanlos nodded, his gaze lingering on the half-drawn blade. The clear moonlight shone on its gleaming surface, and a bone-chilling cold radiated from the steel.

The blade's lines had the graceful shape of a willow leaf, while its upper half widened noticeably, giving it greater cutting power. As Lanlos drew it and gave it a swing, it made a faint hiss as it sliced through the air. The excellent feel of it earned his genuine praise—and regret.

It was a fine weapon, leagues better than the standard Farstrider issue. What a waste for it to end up in the hands of a priest.

Shaking his head, Lanlos slid it back into its sheath. But a line of tiny writing on the sheath made him freeze.

Windrunner Blade, for my dearest little brother.—Alleria Windrunner

His whole body went still. Lanlos stared wide-eyed in the direction where the boy had disappeared and remained silent for a long while.

Lirath Windrunner, the fourth Windrunner sibling and the only son of the main family line—a winner who'd been showered with love all his life.

He hadn't expected to run into him here. Lanlos's expression turned odd. Aside from being a Windrunner, this kid had "betrayed" his family by becoming a priest, and he was far too green. You'd think a child from a great family would have better social skills.

And he still had 15 Charisma? That was nearly double Lanlos's score! What a joke...

Lanlos toyed with the beautiful curved blade in his hands, his glaring displeasure plain for anyone to see.

Back in his dorm, Lirath finally had time to wipe the sweat from his brow. Most people probably wouldn't understand why he was so, so afraid of "getting into trouble." Only he knew just how much pressure he was under.

He'd been wondering why his roommate hadn't said a word when a voice that made his blood run cold suddenly called out, "Where have you been?"

By the window, the elven ranger had her back to the others. Even so, none of his roommates, who usually bragged about how brave they were, dared to look her in the eye.

"Vereesa?" Though the evening breeze washed over him, sweat still dotted Lirath's temples.

This was the source of his pressure.

Unlike their parents and eldest sister, who doted on him, Vereesa was still too young to take part in a war and take charge of her own life, just like him. The biggest difference was that she was older, and one of the academy's top talents, while he was still a newcomer. One reason he'd chosen to become a priest was that his family's expectations for him as a ranger were too high.

Who could have guessed that coming to Fastherin would be the start of a nightmare?

"Where's the Windrunner Blade?" Vereesa had turned around at some point. Her gaze lingered briefly on the empty space at his waist before she asked. Her tone wasn't exactly cold, but there was no warmth in it.

Alleria had once asked Vereesa to look after Lirath while they were at the academy. That shouldn't have been a problem. But after learning that her brother had become a priest, Vereesa's attitude had made a complete about-face. She understood why he'd made that choice, but she despised avoidance and weakness. And when she thought about how the family spoiled their youngest brother, she grew even angrier.

Of course, it wasn't because she was jealous. She believed that all that spoiling had allowed Lirath's cowardice to flourish. So she'd privately "misinterpreted" Alleria's request, and whenever she had the time, she made sure to "look after" her useless little brother.

That was also why Lirath's Agility was high enough to meet the standard for a trainee ranger.

Having a weapon on academy grounds late at night was a serious problem. Though Lanlos was a teaching assistant, the guards still questioned him because he was a new face. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the dormitory ahead.

But the moment he grabbed the doorknob, his nerves tightened. A prickling sensation on the back of his neck slowly converged on a point behind him. He didn't panic. Instead, he smiled coldly.

His Perception of 15 wasn't just for show.

Whoosh!

The instant he pushed the door open, a faint whistle cut through the air from the bushes behind him. Lanlos's body shifted aside almost at once, and his right hand thrust hard at the shadow that suddenly appeared.

Boom!

Ripples spread through the air like waves on the sea. The forceful impact kicked up a gale and slammed into his attacker. A muffled grunt sounded as the shadow was sent flying.

Force Impact. Its ability to knock back medium-sized creatures was more useful than its damage.

"Attacking someone at Fastherin? You've got some nerve." Lanlos wasn't too worried as he looked at the black-clad figure's face, hidden beneath a hood and scarf. Instead, he was intrigued. It was his first time in a situation like this. He'd only ever seen black-clad figures on TV—and the left hand he held behind his back was already crackling with electricity.

The shadow seemed startled by his lightning-fast reflexes and spellcasting. She stood motionless for a while, then bent her slender legs slightly.

It was dark, but the attacker was so unprofessional that she didn't even bother to hide her movements as she gathered strength. Realizing she wasn't a professional assassin, and noting that she only reached his chest and had a slender frame, Lanlos relaxed a little more.

She pushed off with her toes. Her speed was so great that her movements blurred in his vision, and a howling gust shot straight for Lanlos's face.

Smack!

He raised the Windrunner Blade's scabbard to block the attack. But the unexpected force that hit it drove his right hand down, and his attacker's weapon came down on his shoulder.

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

"Ah!!"

A shrill, ear-splitting scream ripped through the night. Electricity coursed through her, but she only staggered. A glimmer of protective magic flashed across her body, and she immediately retreated without suffering the usual aftereffects of paralysis and cramping. At that moment, she was clutching a wooden club in one hand and covering her chest with the other, glaring at the mage with such fury that her eyes seemed to drip blood. It was as if she wanted to devour him whole.

A wooden club? A woman?

Lanlos glanced at the weapon in her hand, then looked down at his empty palm. Almost without thinking, he made a grasping motion.

"You shameless bastard! Die!"

Ignoring the risk of exposing herself, the woman screamed furiously and thrust the wooden club at Lanlos's lower abdomen with both hands. Like a cuckoo crying blood, she seemed ready to die with him.

It was only a wooden club, but if it struck him in the groin, he could kiss his future happiness goodbye.

With no time to think, Lanlos swept his hand up. An oval shield of faint light enveloped him just before her attack landed.

Crack!

Seeing her poke a hole in his Shield spell with a single blow, Lanlos couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath. It was only a first-circle spell, but he'd had to kick his way through the ward five or six times with all his strength to dispel it. What incredible strength this girl had!

Shocked but unwilling to let his guard down, Lanlos chanted an obscure incantation as quickly as he could, gathering magic into his hand.

But the girl was shockingly fierce. She spun around and kicked through the breach in his shield, booting him hard in the chest. The Shield spell absorbed some of the force, but the pain still severed his connection to his magic. The dissipating power surged out at once, crashing into his mind.

The shadow watched him grunt and stagger backward, delighted. She charged him again, swinging the wooden club hard at the left hand he'd used to assault her. Judging by the force of the swing, a direct hit would surely break a bone.

But she didn't notice the terrifying green glint in Lanlos's eyes as his mind reeled and his awareness fell into disarray for an instant.

Clang!

The black-clad figure froze. The Windrunner Blade had stopped the wooden club cleanly. Unlike his failed block earlier, this time he held the weapon in just one hand and still parried her attack completely.

At the same time, Lanlos gave a low shout and shot out his other hand like a striking snake, grabbing her wrist. He twisted with all his strength and swung her around in a one-handed hip throw, smashing her into the ground.

The impact was brutal. The black-clad figure felt as if her whole body had come apart, and a cry of pain escaped her. But when she sensed him coming closer to pin her down, instinctive panic and humiliation roused her will. Ignoring the pain, she kicked at his head.

With no choice, Lanlos abandoned his attempt to restrain her and sprang back.

After driving the mage away, the black-clad figure flipped to her feet. She left him with a fierce glare and darted into the night. Watching her vanish among the trees, Lanlos rubbed his aching chest but didn't give chase. Her coordination and agility made her far better suited to fighting in that environment than he was.

Still, he hadn't come away empty-handed.

He opened his clenched fist. A single, impossibly fine strand of hair fluttered in the breeze, shining silver in the moonlight.

Vereesa hid in the shadow cast by a thick tree trunk. Once she was sure no one had followed her, she finally let out a breath of relief, though frustration clouded her lovely face.

She'd underestimated the mage who'd just arrived at the academy. She'd thought that with skills good enough to meet the Farstriders' standards, sneaking up behind him and knocking him out with a Sap would be a piece of cake. Who could have guessed he'd be so alert? In a place like the academy, no less. Was he paranoid?

Damn it! If this weren't the academy, I'd make sure you died horribly!

She rubbed her budding chest. The tingling sensation clung to her like a leech, and the intense humiliation nearly drove her mad.

She angrily tossed the wooden club aside, fury blazing across her face. No elf at the academy could match her with a bow, but a bow could kill someone, and that wasn't what she wanted. She'd only meant to get the curved blade back. Alleria had gone to the trouble of having it specially made. It was a farewell gift for Lirath, and even though the kid had become a priest, it still shouldn't be in someone else's hands.

Especially not in the hands of this man, someone Sarell had specifically told her to keep under watch. Handing her sister's gift to a scoundrel like him was an insult!

Vereesa clenched her fists, wishing she could turn around right now and cut off the man's filthy hands.

In her view, he was a teaching assistant. He couldn't have deliberately used a first-circle spell to touch her unless he was wicked to the core!

Her underlayer had an energy-resistance enchantment equivalent to an intermediate spell. If he'd used a ranged offensive spell, then one cast so hastily would probably have been something she could ignore and still knock her target out. But the fool had insisted on parrying her attack—and using his hand...

If Lanlos had known what she was thinking, he would have protested his innocence. Heaven was his witness: he hadn't even started studying second-circle spells. Shocking Grasp was his most effective way to subdue someone. Fireball? Arcane Missiles? Even he'd managed to block those directed spells himself.