Chapter 82. Unplayed Ace (Patreon)

[I dislike this chapter title; please comment suggestions!!!]

[Also, on discord in #tml-fanart, I added two pics of Ian and Eury that I made.  They aren't canon because the characters in this story can look however you want to imagine (while in line with in-text description ofc), but I had fun doing it. ]

—

“Good luck,” Shivin’i said, squeezing Euryphel’s arm. The two of them were standing by a long table spanning across the left side of the room; many other delegations also had yet to leave, so the room was full of conversation.

“You know I have no chance,” Euryphel said bitterly. “The Breaker is a terrible matchup for me.”

“You’ve pulled off the impossible before.”

Eury rolled his eyes. In the past two days since Ian’s duel against Zilverna, the prince had been in and out of countless summit assemblies, panels, meetings, and socials. He’d forgotten how exhausting it was to both compete as a duelist and also negotiate as a politician. At least in the political arena he wasn’t alone, but the SPU’s small delegation was easily stretched thin, drowned out by the voices of other, more populous–and usually more powerful–nations.

Places like Selejo.

At least after this next duel, I’ll be able to fully devote myself to politics.

“You can expect Iastra to fight dearly to hold on to their position,” Shivin’i continued. “However, bringing the Skai’aren has caused several upsets, and the East is not amused. From what I’ve gleaned, energy disturbances seem to indicate that rifts will soon be replenished, perhaps even some new ones will appear. And with a win against Iastra we should have enough Influence to gain first access to at least one, if not more.”

Euryphel smiled weakly. “Then I guess it will be up to Dunai. If he wins the final perhaps this might have been worth it.”

“Bringing Dunai was a calculated risk; don’t judge yourself yet.”

“I’m curious to see how he’s going to handle his new-found fame,” Euryphel said lightly, trying to pivot the conversation. “Perhaps the dark art is going to receive a surge in popularity.”

“At the very least, any attempts on his life will attract heightened scrutiny: He’s too well-known. That much is a victory.”

The topic of assassination brought a question to the forefront of Euryphel’s mind. He entered a Regret scenario and spoke quickly. “We’re in a scenario and won’t be overheard. What have you found about Selejo and Zilverna’s unexpected rise?”

Shivin’i’s voice dropped to a low mutter. “Earlier this week Selejo had several closed-door meetings with the Sere Consortium. We didn’t think much of it, but after seeing Zilverna’s preparation, I am beginning to suspect that the meetings concerned Viscero, the company behind the Infinity Loop.”

“Viscero?” Euryphel tried to conceal his displeasure. “Our sources said the experiments were shuttered for the foreseeable future.”

“Shuttered in Pardin.” Shivin’i retorted. “Whatever Selejo is planning, they’ve put effort into keeping it secret.”

Euryphel swiped out with a blade of wind, cutting the table in half and drawing all eyes to their part of the room. He snapped out of the scenario and into the present feeling moderately refreshed.

—

Euryphel entered the dueling arena and fell into position, his eyes fixed on the ground. Though the air was mostly still, the prince made use of it to see behind himself.

Euryphel tuned out the words of the announcer completely, his breath cycling in and out. Orion Iucorsu, the man otherwise known as the Breaker, was also breathing slowly, holding an easy stance while waiting for the match to commence. He completely ignored the many fans that chanted his courtesy name from the stands, his eyes locked onto Euryphel with a keen intensity. Euryphel figured that the Breaker would also be tracking his movements with dual air and earth elementalism.

“Commence!”

Euryphel felt the five-second restriction on his Regret affinity lift. He immediately began to recurse from his starting position, flinging himself forward toward the Breaker and away from the spikes of earth jutting out of the ground.

The Breaker was unhurried. He jogged forward, each step causing the earth to ripple in front of him, while claws of air flung shattered earth towards the prince. Euryphel deflected and danced around the projectiles without much difficulty, though he knew the Breaker was only just getting started.

This isn’t going to end well.

The Breaker smiled and made a gesture with his gauntlets. The thin, white coverings only covered the back of his hands, his thumbs, and his index and middle fingers. Sigils crackled like blue lightning over its surface, flaring in response to the practitioner’s sideward motion. He flattened his hands together and the charged lightning jumped outward, seeming to simultaneously ride the air and chase earth pellets over the stadium.

The lightning that arched around Euryphel was too swift to counter: the prince buckled to the ground from the discharge, struggling to draw in a breath. It’s not even real lightning, Euryphel thought to himself. Imagine facing him outside the Fassari Summit when the gauntlets’ power isn’t restricted.

Euryphel decided to kill the iteration and try again. He iterated over thirty times, each ending only in teeth-grinding frustration. Like Euryphel, the Breaker was a Regret user and could look into possible futures. Euryphel’s Regret affinity was slightly higher than the Breaker’s, but the man also had a 99% Mountain affinity.

In every iteration that Euryphel came even close to dealing damage, the Breaker would disappear underground and attack from below. Once that happened, Euryphel had no reliable way of forcing the practitioner to surface. Moreover, because the Breaker’s wind elementalism stemmed from a higher Regret affinity than the root of Euryphel’s wind elementalism–End–the prince was unable to muster a viable wind-centered offense.

The final nail in the coffin were the custom gauntlets Iucorsu used to generate lightning. Most offensive weapons such as the glosSword were banned in the Fassari Summit. Everyone recognized, however, that the likelihood of a weapon being banned was directly related to the nation in which it was developed. Almost all Iastran weapons were approved, albeit after non-lethal nerfs, while most western states didn’t have a single approved custom weapon.

Not that we particularly need weapons, Euryphel grumbled to himself as he dodged around a disk of charged earth. In the SPU, our power comes from within, from our superior bloodline.

Though it would be nice to shoot lightning...

Eventually, Euryphel found himself at a crossroads: continue to iterate and look for a path to victory, or concede defeat and try to lose with poise and style.

One more try.

Euryphel dashed forward, wind spiraling around him in a vortex. He held nothing back, flying toward Iucorsu with as much power as he could muster.

This time when Iucorsu tried to hit him with lightning, Euryphel focused on the path of the energy from the Breaker’s body, up through the gauntlets, and into the air. The energy itself came from somewhere else–likely a pocket dimension–but also mixed in strands of the Breaker’s energy.

That’s what I’m after.

He failed on the first attempt, the Breaker’s lightning discharging its payload without exhibiting signs of enervation or being disturbed. But when Iucorsu’s lightning once more lashed Euryphel’s shoulder, the prince felt himself gaining a foothold with his End avatar.

A small smile crept onto his face. He tried out the eye-jabbing technique he had practiced with Ian, noting with satisfaction how the Breaker flinched backwards. His opponent finally off balance, Euryphel seized on the advantage and decided to see how far he could take things while in a Regret scenario.

When Iucorsu lanced him with a jolt of lightning again, Euryphel seized the opportunity to retaliate. Unlike in his practices with Ian, Euryphel forced the man to shock his own eyes at point blank. It only took a second for the man to stumble and fall to the ground, perhaps unconscious, perhaps worse.

It was the kind of technique that would only work once. Some people might call it a gimmick, but it’s useful enough to potentially defeat the most powerful foreign practitioner at the Fassari Summit.

Too bad I can’t show my hand today.

Euryphel left the recursive scenario, his awareness returning to reality. Euryphel bounded forward with a blast of air and sent glaives of wind toward the Breaker. The man shrugged them off with a defensive swipe of the hand, stirring up a gale that nearly pushed Euryphel back to his starting position.

Euryphel decided to ride the blast and circled back around at an even faster speed, his eyes squinting into the wind. As he approached, Iucorsu smashed a foot into the earth and kicked several fist-sized bits of packed earth his way.

Euryphel knew...that Iucorsu knew...that he would try to dodge and deflect. Guessing how many steps ahead Iucorsu was operating was a calculated risk, but Euryphel was willing to bet the man wasn’t going too crazy with his Regret affinity. He knows he’s almost guaranteed to win.

So instead of dodging, Euryphel continued to barrel for the Breaker, riding the air headlong into a shock of blue lightning straight from the man’s pearly-white gauntlets.

It’s just a little pain, Euryphel reminded himself. He knew that the lightning would leach into the orbit of air around him and try to strike from several angles. As it detonated into him, he just barely managed to redirect part of the charge out of his body and back into the air, rather than into the ground.

He directed the lightning in front of him...into Iucorsu’s outstretched hands. Surprise colored his features, but from that point on, the fight was swift: sensing a possible challenge, Iucorsu disappeared into the earth and harried Euryphel from below.

Seeing no sense in dragging things out any more, Euryphel gave into his rising exhaustion and allowed one of the earthen spikes to punch him to the other side of the stadium. Just as Euryphel hit the ground, Iucorsu spun out of the earth and secured the prince’s limbs to the earthen floor.

“Match! Victory to the Breaker!”

—

“How are you feeling about the final duel tomorrow?”

Ian shrugged. Germaine was projected in front of him, most of her body visible. He was currently alone and sitting in his room.

“It’ll be satisfying to shut down the man that defeated Eury.”

Germaine frowned. “The Breaker isn’t going to be an easy opponent for you. Don’t you generally fare poorly against earth elementalists?”

“I have a few strategies,” Ian assured her. “Oh, hold on, Aunt Julia is trying to call as well.”

Now Germaine and Aunt Julia were visible, though separated by a thin barrier that indicated they were calling in separately.

“Nephew,” Aunt Julia said warmly. “Congratulations on an excellent performance. I must confess I’ve bragged about you to at least one of my clients.”

“I’ve been doing well enough. I’m glad it’s wrapping up: being around so many powerful practitioners is nerve wracking.” There was one practitioner in particular that was constantly on his mind.

“Has Iolana called you?”

Ian’s expression darkened somewhat. Germaine turned away and crossed her arms.

“No. Mother doesn’t watch professional dueling, and she’s never been fond of the Fassari Summit”

Germaine snorted. “Understatement of the century. Father used to bet on the Fassari tournament outcomes.”

Aunt Julia’s lips pressed together. “Iolana called me to talk about you. She’s been following the progression of the tournament like a hawk, watching every one of your duels.”

Ian wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react. “And?”

Aunt Julia sighed. “I just thought to tell you that she does care, even if she acts aloof. Your mother is a prideful creature.”

“What were we talking about before?” Germaine murmured. “Oh, right: your final duel.”

Aunt Julia nodded her head. “The final two: the Breaker and the Skai’aren.”

Ian rolled his eyes at the way she drew out his courtesy name. “It’s going to be tomorrow afternoon immediately after the final meeting of the general assembly. Duels move quickly, so if you actually want to see it live...don’t be late.”

“I’ll be watching it!” Germaine exclaimed. “No matter the outcome, it’s incredible to place in the top two of the Fassari Summit’s Grand Tournée. Like Aunt Julia implied, I’m sure Mother’s quietly ecstatic.”

“It’s easy to be proud of a son who wins,” Ian replied quietly. “Okay, I think I should be getting to bed. It’s a few hours later here.”

“Aw, not going to break down your strategy to break down the Breaker?”

Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose and chuckled. “Good night, Germaine, Aunt Julia.”

“Good night.”

—

“You’re all packed up?” Euryphel asked, raising an eyebrow. He and Ian were standing in the open hall that wrapped around the guest rooms on the third floor, Ian leaning against the railing and poking his head out over the walking path below.

Ian nodded. “I put my belongings in the void storage; Shivin’i should have them.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Euryphel gave him a look. “Just ‘fine’? Aren’t you, I don’t know, excited to win the Grand Tournée?”

Ian frowned. “I’m honestly just looking forward to leaving this place. My time here has been one long sequence of blunders, and I’d like to stop making any more. The sooner we’re taking the transport array back to the SPU, the better.”

Euryphel sighed. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I know that things haven’t gone perfectly, but that’s just par for the course. You’ve achieved more here these past few days than most people can aspire to in an entire lifetime. You’ve consorted with and dueled the most powerful people of our times, added your name to the annals of history.”

“But in the end, what use is it? People are people, history is history.”

Euryphel walked over and joined Ian at the balcony. “We all leave a legacy. Whether we actively realize that we’re being impacted by legacies of the past is a different discussion.”

“We should probably walk over,” Ian observed, noting the increasing number of people walking towards the stadium. He flashed Euryphel a smile. “As your personal retainer, it’s time for me to get payback on your behalf.”