Rise of the Peerless God of War

Chapter 8

The application went better than expected.

"Draven Ashworth and Jin Ironforge," the clerk had said, barely looking up from his paperwork. "Team applications for Whispering Catacombs investigation. Approved."

Just like that. No questions about qualifications, no lecture about the dangers. Draven suspected his family name had something to do with it, but he wasn't about to complain.

Now, three days later, he was starting to wonder if they'd made a huge mistake.

"You sure about this?" Jin asked for the dozenth time as they walked across the academy courtyard. "I mean, really sure? Because my mom always said—"

"Your mom also said earth magic was just 'moving dirt around,'" Draven interrupted. "And look how that turned out."

Jin grinned. "Fair point."

They were heading to the library to research the catacombs when they heard the commotion. Voices raised in anger, the sound of magic crackling through the air, and underneath it all, someone pleading.

"Please, I didn't mean anything by it—"

"Didn't mean anything?" The voice that answered was cold, arrogant. "You bumped into me, merchant scum. You got your dirty hands on my robes."

Draven and Jin exchanged glances and hurried toward the sound. They rounded a corner and found themselves looking at a scene that made Draven's blood boil.

Four senior students had Jin's dormmate cornered against a wall. Not Jin—another Jin. Jin Ironforge was standing right beside Draven. This was Jin Coppersmith from the room down the hall, a quiet kid who never bothered anyone.

The seniors were all earth mages, judging by the way the ground around young Coppersmith's feet had turned to quicksand, keeping him trapped in place up to his ankles.

"I'm sorry," Coppersmith was saying, his voice shaking. "It was an accident—"

"Accidents have consequences," the lead senior said. He was a big guy with arms like tree trunks and a face that looked like it had been carved from stone. "Especially when they involve trash who doesn't belong here."

"Hey!" Jin Ironforge stepped forward before Draven could stop him. "Leave him alone!"

The seniors turned, and Draven saw recognition flicker in their eyes. "Well, well. Another merchant boy comes to play hero."

"Four against one," Jin said, his voice steady. "Real brave of you."

The big senior laughed. "Four against two now, I guess. Though I don't know why you brought your pet hollow prince along. What's he going to do, disappoint us to death?"

There it is again.

Draven felt the pendant grow warm against his chest. The memories from the Memorial Garden stirred—Captain Marcus Hale's sword work, Sir Thomas Brightblade's defensive techniques, dozens of other warriors who'd faced impossible odds and found a way to win.

"Let him go," Draven said quietly.

"What?" The senior cupped his ear mockingly. "I couldn't hear you over your complete lack of magical power."

The other seniors laughed. One of them gestured, and stone spikes began rising from the ground around Coppersmith, getting closer to his trapped legs.

"Stop it!" Jin created an earth barrier, but the seniors were older, stronger. Their combined magic shattered his defense like it was made of paper.

"You want to play, little boy?" The big senior raised his hands. "Let's play."

The ground under Jin's feet suddenly liquified. He sank up to his knees, struggling to maintain his balance.

That's it.

Draven didn't think. He just moved.

Captain Marcus Hale's memories guided his hands as he grabbed a practice sword from the weapons rack nearby. The weight felt perfect, familiar, like he'd been holding swords his whole life instead of just a few months.

The seniors were so focused on Jin and Coppersmith that they didn't see him coming until it was too late.

The first senior went down with the flat of Draven's blade across the back of his knees. Not enough to permanently damage, but enough to drop him hard.

The second spun around, hands already glowing with earth magic. "What the—"

Draven stepped inside his guard—Sir Thomas Brightblade's favorite technique—and the pommel of his sword caught the senior right in the solar plexus. The guy folded like a house of cards.

"Impossible," the third senior breathed. "You're powerless—"

"Yeah, well, powers aren't everything," Draven said, and proved it by disarming the guy with a move that would have made his grandfather proud.

That left the big senior, who was staring at Draven like he'd grown a second head.

"You just took out three of my friends," he said slowly.

"Yeah. You want to make it four for four, or are you going to let these guys go?"

For a moment, it looked like the senior might actually try to fight. His hands glowed with earth magic, and the ground trembled under their feet.

Then Jin managed to free himself from the liquified earth and create a barrier that was a lot more solid than his first attempt. And Coppersmith, freed when the seniors lost concentration, scrambled to safety behind them.

"This isn't over," the big senior said, but he was already backing away. "You hear me, hollow prince? This isn't over."

"Looking forward to it," Draven replied, and meant it.

The seniors left, carrying their injured friends and muttering about impossible things and how the world was going crazy.

"That was incredible!" Coppersmith said, rushing over to them. "How did you move like that? I've never seen swordwork like that!"

"Just got lucky," Draven said, which was becoming his standard excuse.

Jin was staring at him with something like awe. "Lucky? Draven, you just took apart three senior students like they were first-year beginners."

Because I had the combat memories of a dozen masters guiding my hands.

"Adrenaline," Draven said instead. "Makes you do crazy things."

But Jin didn't look convinced. Neither did the small crowd of students that had gathered to watch the commotion.

"Is it true you applied for the catacombs mission?" a voice asked from behind them.

Draven turned to find Lyra Stormwind approaching, Sera Nightwhisper trailing behind her like a shadow. Both of them were looking at him with new interest.

"Yeah, we did," Jin said when Draven didn't answer immediately.

"Interesting," Sera murmured. "Very interesting indeed."

"We applied too," Lyra said. "Perhaps we could work together? Form a team?"

A team. With the wind prodigy and the shadow mage.

"Why would you want to team up with us?" Draven asked suspiciously.

Lyra smiled. "Because anyone who can take down three seniors with nothing but a practice sword might be more useful than he appears."

Great. More attention.

"Besides," Sera added, her silver eyes glinting with amusement, "you're obviously not as powerless as everyone thinks. And I do love a good mystery."

Even better. Someone who thinks she's figured me out.

Before Draven could respond, Gale appeared as if from nowhere. Again.

"I see applications for the catacombs mission have been... eventful," he said, taking in the scene with those sharp gray eyes.

"Just a misunderstanding, Master," Jin said quickly.

"Mm." Gale gaze lingered on Draven. "Well, since you're all here, you might as well hear the mission details."

He gestured for them to follow him to a quieter part of the courtyard.

"The Whispering Catacombs are an ancient burial ground," he began without preamble. "Academy heroes have been laid to rest there for over two centuries. Recently, there have been... disturbances."

"What kind of disturbances?" Lyra asked.

"Hostile spirits. Academy graduates who died in service, now turned aggressive toward the living. The academy needs teams to investigate the cause and, if possible, put the spirits to rest."

Hostile spirits. In a place where academy heroes are buried.

The pendant against Draven's chest pulsed gently. The memories from the Memorial Garden stirred, whispering about unfinished business and duties that transcended death.

"Multiple student teams will be assigned to different sections of the catacombs," Gale continued. "You'll be working together all four of you."

"All four of us?" Sera raised an eyebrow.

"Ms. Stormwind and Ms. Nightwhisper, Mr. Ashworth and Mr. Ironforge. You've formed quite the interesting group."

Interesting. That's one way to put it.

"When do we leave?" Draven asked.

"Tomorrow at dawn. I suggest you spend tonight preparing." Gale's eyes found Draven's again. "And Mr. Ashworth? Whatever you did here today... be careful. People are starting to notice."

Too late for that.

As Gale walked away, the four of them stood in awkward silence for a moment.

"Well," Jin said finally. "This should be fun."

"Fun isn't the word I'd use," Lyra muttered.

"I think it'll be fascinating," Sera said, still looking at Draven like he was a puzzle she wanted to solve.

And Draven? Draven was thinking about the pendant, about the memories of dead heroes, about a burial ground where academy spirits had turned hostile.

Tomorrow's going to be very interesting indeed.

But as they walked away to prepare for the mission, he caught the sound of whispers on the wind. Faint, distant voices calling his name.

"Draven... Draven... come to us..."

He stopped walking.

"You okay?" Jin asked.

Did they hear that?

But Jin, Lyra, and Sera were all looking at him with normal expressions. No fear, no recognition of supernatural voices.

Just me, then.

"Yeah," Draven said. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Something in the catacombs was calling to him specifically. And he had a feeling that when they went down into those ancient tunnels tomorrow, he was going to find a lot more than hostile spirits.

He was going to find answers.