Chapter 11 - Gathering of the Strong

The city of Cross was the largest in the country, the center of its politics and economy. It was also the site where all the outstanding scorers gathered to be safely accompanied to the intermediate school in the wilderness.

A simple badge on the lapels indicated the city and type of training—magic or martial arts—that the person had taken the exam for. More than 60 people wore a symbol of a cross sword and shield; in contrast, fewer than 10 had a staff and a book emblazoned. Among these, a girl stood out.

Several men tried to talk to her, but she paid no attention. Instead, her focus was on an ordinary individual, causing people to wonder about the relationship between them.

It was close to departure time. Out of the ten adults standing guard over the group, one started to count the number of heads present. He frowned.

One person was missing.

This chance to head into an intermediate school with access to uncommon resources was definitely not something anyone serious would give up. The leader felt pity but couldn’t delay the trip for a single person.

Time passed, and soon it was five minutes until departure. As the leader was about to speak, a loud, worried voice cried out, “Wait!”

In the distance, a huge figure approached at a frightening pace. When it arrived, the person in question deflated—the three-meter towering figure diminished to a portly, stout, short individual.

A dwarf!

They were a secluded magical race that lived in the mountains to the west of the country, renowned for their blacksmithing ability. The weapons and armor they produced were far superior to what most human blacksmiths could make, but came at a hefty price. Nevertheless, the few dwarves who left their homeland in the spirit of adventure were warmly welcomed into any city.

The most prominent feature about the dwarves was their physique; although they looked somewhat harmless due to their short statures, they had a hereditary ability to enhance their bodies. Once filled with energy, the agility, power, and dexterity of the clumsy dwarven bodies increased, and their bodies adapted to these changes. To see a dwarf that could already reach a height of three meters was quite a terrifying talent.

“I’m sorry, my son here, Durin, had drunk too much and overslept.” With a smile, he looked around, and to his horror, so many people looked distant with their expensive clothes, certainly unwilling to help a drunk dwarf. Then, his eyes caught a simple, ordinary man. Staggering under the weight of his son, he walked over to Fang.

“Ah… you, can you help my son until he wakes up? Thanks!”

If Fang refused, the dwarf would certainly have fallen onto the wet ground below. Hesitantly, he extended his hand.

Pulling roughly at Fang’s hand, the drunk Durin muttered, “Drink, drink, drink, to not drink is not to live…”

Alcoholism and dwarves went hand in hand; in the past dark ages, when clean water was scarce and often polluted by foul air, large casks of light, mellow mead accompanied the dwarven hardy food. Eventually, the dwarves built a tolerance to alcohol, but it didn’t stop the demand and daily drinking they had grown accustomed to. Although most dwarves were alcoholics, well-accustomed to alcohol, it was still possible to get drunk, as there had to be a limit.

The escort leader quickly understood the situation—a little dwarf named Durin was leaving his family behind to seize this opportunity. However, no event would go without alcohol. After a single night of excessive drinking, he had gotten himself into a stupor but managed to arrive before departure, carried by his father. It could have been unfortunate, but cases of dwarves missing meetings due to their love for drink were not uncommon.

“If there’s nothing else, then can we get going?”

“Yes, yes, I’m so sorry!” The dwarf’s father looked one last time at the sleeping Durin, then hurried back into Cross City.

“Let us go!” The leader nodded to the other adults, and they concentrated as the area started to become engulfed in a mass of swirling air. In contrast to the box of pressure created by the judge at the entrance examination, this area seemed to turbulently suck in the wind, a mass of energy propelling the air and keeping it there.

To ensure the safety of the country’s most talented youths, experts at the master level were dispatched. As the group floated safely upwards, the unsettled air normalized. With a wave, the air blasted forwards with high speed.

Thanks to the immaculate control over the winds demonstrated by the escorts, Fang experienced the sensation of a relaxed flight. His eyes weren’t stinging, cold wind wasn’t rushing and chilling his body; in this calm zone, the wind silently supported everyone like a platform. The gorgeous landscape filled his view as he looked below, while the gentle light of the sun peeked through small cracks in the clouds above.

Although this method of travel was extremely efficient and comfortable, it was rare. If you had enough money, you could hire someone for this, but how many master-level experts would willingly lower themselves to do such a menial task?

The flight continued to the east, and the city faded from view. A dark shadow appeared ahead, covering the horizon with traces of smoke.

“It’s a fire roc!” Someone from the group suddenly exclaimed. He knew that his city was often beset by these creatures. Like magic users, these monsters often spat out fierce fireballs, causing havoc for the inexperienced. Alone, they weren’t that dangerous; however, the amount of smoke in the distance indicated that it was a pack of at least a dozen.

The experts didn’t panic at all. Focused, a small part of the escorts sent out a chaotic array of energy that simulated the winds below the rocs into a raging storm.

3rd-grade red skill—Tornado!

Users of wind energy didn’t usually display destructive power with their attacks, but these users were at the master rank.

A barrage of fireballs was promptly extinguished as the roaring tornado consumed the struggling beasts. For a moment, everything was calm. Then, the tornado dissipated.

Unidentifiable feathers, wings, and blood fell towards the ground, the series of wind blades mercilessly cutting the monsters into scraps.

The team of escorts didn’t spare a second as the journey continued calmly. The students were wide-eyed at the astounding display of power.

Fang gulped. He thought that the beautiful judge at the examination was strong, but this was even more shocking than anything he had seen before.

Regrettably, with the monsters butchered beyond recognition, there would be nothing to sell, but it didn’t matter; at this level, they wouldn’t care about some small change.

With these combat experts accompanying the group, the flight continued relatively unimpeded. Sometimes, a few monsters would appear, but they were easily defeated and didn’t even warrant a pause most of the time.

Two idle hours passed like this, and with the novelty wearing off, Fang stood up, wanting to go over to Mii to talk. However, his thoughts were interrupted by a stuffy “ahem.”

He looked to his side—the dwarf had woken up.