The Return of the wilderness God

The First Trial

 

A flashing silver beacon pointed directly at a man's skull is an excellent way to start a manhunt.

"We need to run right now," Valerie whispered, her face completely white as she grabbed Ethan's sleeve. "The astrology tower has not reacted like that since the last high king was crowned. The entire central guard is going to drop on this plaza in less than sixty seconds."

"Running makes you look guilty," Ethan said, his voice remaining perfectly calm as he watched the glowing silver beam dance across his clothes. "Besides, the main gates just closed behind us. Look."

A massive iron portcullis slammed down behind them with a deafening crash, sealing the city entrance. High up on the city walls, horn blasts echoed through the morning air, signaling a maximum security lockdown.

"Attention all citizens!" a booming, magically amplified voice roared from the central tower. "An unidentified intruder has bypassed the spiritual perimeter! The high priests have declared a state of emergency! All residents must stay in place for immediate soul scanning!"

"A soul scan will expose your wilderness training instantly," Valerie said, her eyes darting frantically around the crowded plaza as merchants began to panic. "If they find out you do not use standard magic circles, they will throw you into the deepest dungeon before you can even explain who you are."

"Where is the highest concentration of people?" Ethan asked, looking toward a large domed stadium just three blocks away. "They cannot scan thousands of people individually if everyone is shouting."

"The grand arena," Valerie said, her eyes lighting up as she caught his train of thought. "The elite combat tournament starts today. The winners get an automatic invitation to the inner palace banquet tonight to serve as the royal vanguard. It is the only place in the city where high spiritual energy is completely normal."

"Then we are entering a tournament," Ethan said, heading straight toward the massive stone stadium.

"You cannot just walk in and sign up!" Valerie yelled, jogging to keep pace with his long strides. "The registration closed yesterday! You need an official backing from a noble house or a recognized academic guild to even touch the signup sheet!"

"You are a master alchemist from the capital academy," Ethan said, glancing down at the silver badge pinned to her robe. "Does that badge let you sponsor a courier?"

Valerie pulled her badge off, staring at it for a brief second. "An alchemical house can sponsor one security guard for the transport of rare ingredients. If I register you as my personal defender, they have to let you fight in the open qualifiers. But Ethan, the fighters in there are seasoned killers. They use high-level imperial sorcery."

"They use sloppy forms," Ethan corrected her, pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the arena registration hall. "Let us sign the papers."

Ten minutes later, Ethan stood in the stone staging tunnel beneath the massive arena, wearing a simple linen vest and holding a standard iron practice sword. The roar of the crowd above was deafening, a wall of pure sound that shook the dust from the ceiling beams.

"Next match!" a loud bark came from the tournament official. "The champion of the western valleys, Sir Robert the Unbroken, versus... Ethan the courier!"

"Do not kill him," Valerie whispered from the shadows of the tunnel, her hands gripping her alchemical satchel tightly. "If you show too much power, the high priests will realize you are the one who triggered the astrology tower. Just do enough to win."

"I will try," Ethan said, stepping out into the blinding sunlight of the main arena floor.

The crowd erupted in laughter the moment Ethan walked onto the sand. Opposite him stood a towering man clad in thick, golden plate armor. Robert the Unbroken carried a massive obsidian broadsword that glowed with bright red fire runes.

"Is this a joke?" Robert laughed, his voice echoing through the stadium as he raised his flaming weapon. "The alchemy guild sent a scrawny boy with a rusty iron rod to face me? Yield now, child, before I accidentally burn your limbs off."

"Your stance is completely unbalanced," Ethan said, holding his iron practice sword loosely at his hip. "Your left shoulder is raised two inches higher than your right because your armor is too heavy for your frame. If I strike your left knee, your entire defense will crumble."

The stadium crowd went silent for a short second before bursting into even louder mockery.

"The boy has a death wish!" a noble shouted from the lower stands.

"Break his toy sword, Robert!" another yelled.

Robert's face twisted in pure rage under his golden helmet. "I was going to spare your life, brat, but now I am going to turn you into ash! Let us see you talk about my stance after this!"

The giant champion raised his obsidian blade high into the air, stamping his heavy boot onto the sand. A massive, circular red magic rune expanded beneath his feet, the air pressure in the arena dropping instantly as a vortex of absolute heat began to swirl around his body.

"That is the Crimson Horizon spell!" Valerie gasped from the sidelines, her voice full of panic. "Ethan, get out of the way! That sorcery concentrates pure elemental fire into a single point! It can melt iron!"

Ethan did not move an inch. He simply watched the magic circle spin, his eyes tracing the flow of the glowing red lines. To everyone else, it was a terrifying display of divine destruction. To Ethan, it was a poorly constructed water pipe leaking energy from three different joints.

"The third ring of your magic circle is misaligned," Ethan said softly, though his voice easily carried across the quiet, tense arena. "You are pulling atmospheric heat from the left side but venting it through the right. The back pressure is building up directly behind your collarbone."

"Silence!" Robert roared, his eyes bloodshot with anger. "Die!"

The massive champion swung his sword downward, unleashing a towering wave of roaring crimson fire that tore through the stone floor of the arena, screaming directly toward Ethan like a hungry dragon.

Ethan did not dodge. He did not draw a magic shield. He did not even raise his sword. Instead, he took one precise step forward, right into the center of the searing heat, and calmly raised two fingers on his right hand.