The Ghost of Vermil-Chapter 21: Marco XIV

Professor Turington chose the coliseum in the training grounds. It had seats so that spectators would not have to stand. Twenty-nine sophomore Alephs filled the front row silently, unsure if to cheer for Marco.

"Give us a show Marco," Catherine yelled, waving her hand.

"This training is not about bragging how powerful one is," Turington turned to them, "I want you to appreciate the effects of Power Strengthening. Sometimes, even a tiny needle can break a longsword if the needle is strong enough."

A lie, at least his intentions were.

Unfortunately for Turington, Marco hated losing. I don't plan to stand around like a sitting duck.

"Let's begin," the professor declared. He mustered holy energy in one palm. It was the size of a watermelon. He yelled so the others could hear, "This is compression!" With his fingers straining as if clasping the ball of holy power floating above his hand, he began to shrink it until it was as small as a pea, its yellow warmth bleached into pure white. The dot hovered above his finger.

With one look at it, Marco knew that he would get done in in one attack if he didn't raise his guards up right away. "INVIOLABLE EDICT!" Pushing tendrils of holy energy out of his body, he took command of the air and the floor below him.

"I won't hurt you too much," Turington said. Then he shot it towards him.

Crack. Crack. Marco pulled out two tiles off the floor to block it, putting an air column in between to know if the pea-sized projectile had pierced through. It did. Chuu! It whistled past through the first tile and the second one. It caught the end of his vest — the skin of his waist had he not dodged in time — burning a hole through it before striking an enchanted marble stone with a tsik!

The audience gasped.

"Are you trying to kill him?" One of them dared ask.

Turington shook his head, "I wasn't targeting his vital points. Fear not, Demach has one of the best healers in Araya."

"If the teaching session is not yet over, then," Marco chanted, releasing more holy power, "INVIOLABLE EDICT!"

The floor beneath seemed to groan before it began to tremble. Stone and sand pillars the breadth of a person sprouted from the ground, covering the whole arena like a forest.

"That's it!" The professor mouthed ecstatically, "With your pride, I never expected you to stand still and simply defend. But this is futile."

Turington leapt on top of a pillar and produced five large glowing orbs of pure holy energy. He compressed each one again to the same size as before. The air seemed to pulse around them. "You should all be able to create at least three of this at the same time before the month ends. I guarantee you," he told his students.

Before he could even launch them, the pillars grew taller, blocking his view. Despite how powerful they are, they would be useless if they couldn't hit.

The air above Turington started to swirl. His condensed orbs were helpless against the vast attack that was about to drop. The tornado materialized in seconds, its winds sharply humming in rage. His robe flapped around him as he stared the storm in the eye. DIVINE PROVIDENCE! He created facets of holy energy between him and the raging windstorm. SLAM! It fell onto the barrier but could not break through. After all, tornadoes swept things up and away. It did not have the capacity to drill into the shield on its own. But it slid off the barrier and began to home on him.

Turington retreated into the mob of pillars where the whirlwind could be dissipated. Yet as he did so, BOOM BOOM BOOM. Pockets of air imploded around him, tearing his clothes into tatters and leaving him with bruises.

"FUCK!" He cursed, his five glowing orbs still floating above his fingers, unused.

The storm above had died down.

"Where is the needle, Professor?" Marco taunted him, hidden from among the pillars. WIIIING! A sharp pulsing sound rang in the arena. "I've learned something here, Professor. I'm not sure if I did it right. Please judge for yourself."

From the sand pillar a foot away from him, Turington saw a bead of pure white holy energy pierce through. Tsik! There was no time to counterattack. IMPENETRABLE FAITH! Turington yelled. The bead hit him right on the shoulder.

Five orbs also came for Marco. Having revealed his position, Marco chose to endure the barrage of condensed holy energy. DIVINE PROVIDENCE! He withdrew his command over the pillars and air in order to thicken the barrier. BAM. BAM. BAM. None of the five holy peas made it past.

"What is happening? We can't see anything."

Because of the storm kicking up clouds of dust, and with them fighting inside the shadow of the forest of sand and stone pillars, the spectators were left clueless as to what had transpired in the arena below.

"This is not proving to be an effective way to show them what I intended," Professor Turington's voice said inside the cloud of dust. When the dust cover had cleared, Marco saw Turington's metallic skin melting back into its tanned hue. He had activated an innate talent in order to avoid getting perforated.

So that amount of holy power could not pierce through the defence of a metal man, Marco learned.

"Impressive," Turington praised, "You've managed to condense one bullet of holy energy. Holy energy when compressed becomes able to inflict unimaginable physical damage. Why don't you show your classmates then?"

"Did he learn it that fast? And in the middle of a fight?" Marco heard mutterings from the crowd.

The professor taunted him, "Or did you just get lucky? Our session ends here then. You've made a mess of the arena, but all's well. I'll explain everything to the director."

Marco looked Turington in the eye. "The fight has not ended yet. I am yet to see the needle that can break a sword.

Turington pulled on his tattered robe. A hole was left by Marco's attack where it hit his shoulder. He looked more mangled than his student. "Then show us, Mr. Vermilon. I'll defend to the best of my ability."

"I am grateful for the chance, Professor. Then, defend well."

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Tendrils of Marco's holy power shot out of his body and gathered into a ball above him. More and more, he fed it with his power until it grew into a humungous ball akin to the size of a hot-air balloon. It splashed the awed faces of the spectators with golden light, blinding like the sun. Then breathing in deeply, he condensed it to the size of his fist. It shed its gold for a sharp brilliant white hue.

RIIIINGGGGG!

It filled the arena with an eerie sound as it hovered over them, vibrating.

DIVINE PROVIDENCE! Turington readied his barrier, infusing it with as much holy power as he could muster. The awe and terror in his face began to show as his facade of strength crumbled before pure unbound talent.

Marco called the condensed bullet into his hand. With a push, he launched it toward his professor. I hope it holds well, Ser.

It traced a streak of light that stirred up dust in its wake. BADUM! It struck the barrier with a deafening bang that caused the protective runes on the marble walls to activate. It was loud enough to be heard from beyond Demach's walls.

Then, CRACK! Dust and stone and gasps erupted as the barrier yielded.

As the dust settled, they laid eyes upon Professor Turington still on his feet, unscathed. Marco had directed the searing ball of energy to the ground at the last second and withdrew it in time, leaving only a small crater beneath Turington who was panting to catch his breath as sweat beaded his temples. He regarded Marco with a new look — one of utter surrender and terror, colour drained from his hard-beaten face.

Marco's classmates jumped in their seat, applauding his victory.

"Never doubted you for a second, the Genius of Demach!" Oliver belted.

Catherine hollered, "That was so hot!"

Marco felt his mind clearing. In the moment he had focused his attention to gathering and controlling the condensed bullet of holy energy, he had abandoned all thoughts and shackles. Everything seemed so simple. Not for the first time, he thought, I do love fighting. And winning. Did I overdo it?

His friends did not seem to think so. "It was incredible!"

They flocked to his side, patting his shoulder. "You should teach Power Strengthening, Marco," one of them whispered. The professor still probably did hear, even though he showed no reaction except his paling complexion.

"Do you still have some more to teach us, Professor," Catherine walked to the stupefied figure of their instructor.

Marco excused himself from his class and stood before him. His knees are trembling. He said, "Thank you for teaching me something new today."

Professor Turington stared up at him, eyes rounded, lips bleached white. "Class is dismissed for now."

They filed out of the Coliseum, leaving him there, wordlessly frozen.

"Your badge is glowing, Marco," Oliver noticed. It flickered blue.

Catherine said, "A summon." She looked to the direction of the marble edifice that housed the director's office.

"Is it because of the explosion from earlier?" said Kelvin.

"I don't know. I'll see you guys in a bit." Marco left them, anxious that he might have earned the director's ire

Director Garren noticed the burned edge of Marco's vest, and the dust on his locks and shoulder as Marco stood in front of his desk. He asked, "I believe it was you who rattled the whole of Demach earlier?"

Marco nodded, rueful, "I am truly sorry, Director. It was for a training session on Power Strengthening."

The director sagged into his seat. "I did not summon you here for that, do not fret." He smirked at him, in the charming way that he put everyone at ease.

Knocks on the door announced the arrival of nine more students. Marco knew them well. Most of them were fourth years, the others just a year below. They lined up according to their badge numbers as if adhering to some unspoken arrangement — 1 to 10 from right to left, they stood before the director, flanking Marco on both sides. The top two were wary of Marco. The ones below his rank also did not look at him with high regard for he had defeated them at least once. Marco gained an inkling as to why they were called here.

The director's office felt warm and cozy, the aroma of coffee and incense blending in the air. Yet with the top ten most powerful aces of Araya gathered together, the tension in the room unsettled all of them. Director Garren greeted each one, and broke the news, "A cursed being had gone berserk outside the gate. At least thirty-four refugees and two soldiers were slain. When the Holy Force arrived, it fled to the delta. They have sent a search and extermination party, but they won't be enough. However, sending more would deplete the city's power and put its citizens at risk. As you know, most of Gallenport's soldiers had set off for the Fifth Crusade. Yet, we cannot abandon the Arayans residing in the delta. And thus, the crown requires our help."

One of the students asked languidly, "Are we being obliged, Director?"

Director Garren replied, grinning without scorn but with encouragement, "No, but the scholar who eliminates or subdues the monster first will receive incredibly high merits." He meant that the points received could upset the rankings.

"I'm out then. I don't deal with dangerous. My apologies, Professor."

Marco raised a hand. "Can we team up with each other?"

"Hm, I am not against it, but I don't think that will be efficient, given the competition among you. I would suggest forming your own team. They will receive merits depending on your assessment. You have until tomorrow night to submit names. We must hurry. May the angels favour you all."