The Veiled Man
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Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 76
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 16:00:12 +0000 UTCChapter 76: An Unwanted Meeting
Back in my dorm, Lilian's eyes flashed with anger, her hands balling into tight fists. "Really?! She put a dagger on your throat? I'll go mess her up, wait! No one threatens you like that and gets away with it!"
"Calm down." I caught her wrist before she could storm off, feeling the tension in her muscles. "It's handled. Amelia cleared everything up. The last thing we need is more conflict."
Lilian yanked free but stayed, her jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. I sank into the couch, my body heavy with exhaustion as I recounted the basement confrontation with Selthira. The tension in the air, the flash of steel, how close we'd come to a serious fight – it all played back in vivid detail. Solara stood by the window, her silhouette outlined by the fading daylight, silent as Lilian leaned in close, her warm fingers brushing my neck searching for cuts with surprising gentleness.
I cleared my throat and gently pushed her back, my hand lingering for just a moment too long. Her frown deepened, but she didn't protest. She was aware of Solara's presence, too. We couldn’t show too much in front of other people just yet, not when we were still keeping our relationship a secret. But the action made the moment awkward.
"Ah, right, Solara..." I turned to face her, straightening my posture and trying to change the subject. "I've got something to discuss with you. Something important." This was more immediate than relationship problems, anyway.
“...Ah,” Solara shook herself out of her daze as she stared at Lilian and me and cleared her throat. "Yes. What is it?"
"That skill I used against Ashvarak..." I paused, choosing my words carefully, aware of the weight they carried. "It depleted a significant portion of my lifespan. I need your help. Without it, I might not have many options left."
Lilian immediately stood up while Solara stepped closer. "What? You should have brought this up earlier,” she said, her expression concerned as she studied my face. "Alright, how exactly can I help you?"
"Your phoenix energy." I met her eyes, keeping my voice steady despite the gravity of the request. "If we cultivate together, sharing our energies, it might help restore some of what I lost. Phoenix Mana is known for its regenerative properties. It could be my best chance at recovery."
It certainly had last time, but I didn’t bring that up. She didn’t know that I’d helped myself with the excuse of helping her wings, and she didn’t need to know.
"How does that work? Cultivating together sounds…" Solara's eyes flickered, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. "Somewhat risky. And… intimate? Won’t the exchanged energy be dangerous to each other?”
"It has an official name for it, Dual Cultivation. But, uh, don’t worry, it's nothing intimate. And the exchanged energies won’t harm us because, as they say, Phoenixes come from drops of stars. We just have to be careful when circulating it. Actually, it’s very similar to what we did before with your wings." I said and glanced at Lilian, who had gone very still, her face a mask of carefully controlled emotions. “And Lilian will watch us throughout the process to separate us if our energies go crazy.”
“I’ll do that,” Lilian nodded.”
“Great,” I looked back at Solara. The feathers of her wings twitched as she looked at me with an odd look. "Right now, it's the best option I have. Will you help me?"
****
Solara sat cross-legged on the floor, her back straight and tense. She'd removed her academy coat but kept her white shirt on, though she'd loosened it slightly at the neck, revealing much of her upper back. The fabric rustled as her wings twitched beneath, trying to fully unfold. Her orange-red hair caught the late afternoon light streaming through the window, creating a halo effect that reminded me of a true phoenix.
"Ready?" I settled behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body as she was already circulating her qi. The warmth reminded me of standing too close to a forge fire, intense but not quite burning.
"Yes," her voice came out quiet but firm. "Take what you need. As long as I can be of help to you..." Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap, betraying her calm facade.
In the corner, Lilian leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight over her chest. Her face remained neutral, but her eyes tracked every movement like a predator assessing potential threats. I could sense her disapproval radiating almost as strongly as Solara's heat.
I placed my palms flat against Solara's back, feeling the outline of her shoulder blades where her wings connected. The skin beneath the thin fabric burned hot – phoenix blood always ran several degrees warmer than human, and it was hotter now with her energy in motion. Even through the shirt, I could feel the latent power thrumming beneath her skin. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reached for my qi.
Golden energy flowed through my meridians, gathering in my palms. Solara's breath hitched as our energies made first contact.
Her phoenix mana felt like liquid fire, wild and untamed compared to my controlled stellar qi. Where they met, heat and steam seemed to rise between us, though I knew it was just the visible manifestation of pure energy. The air grew dense with power, making it harder to breathe.
"Your qi..." Solara whispered, her back arching slightly. "It feels... different. Heavier than before, somehow. Like starlight mixed with shadow."
I nodded, though she couldn't see it. "It’s because its true nature is Chaos Affinity, and I’m cutting it down to Stellar Affinity. Chaos Affinity is much denser than any other energy, and that’s true even when I filter it to Stellar Affinity. The Heavenly Demon's energy has its own properties. Just try to sync your breathing with mine," I steadied my own breath, establishing a slow, measured rhythm.
As our breaths aligned, the energy flow smoothed out. Her phoenix force began responding to my guidance, weaving through the patterns I created with my qi. As her power increased, the room grew noticeably warmer. Small motes of golden light danced around us, remnants of our merged energies.
A bead of sweat rolled down my temple. This kind of cultivation demanded intense focus—one slip, and the volatile energies could backlash. I heard Lilian shift in her corner, but I kept my eyes closed, maintaining concentration. My Demonic Sphere pulsed faintly, helping me track the flow of power between us.
Solara's wings pushed against her shirt, struggling to manifest. I pressed my palms more firmly against her back, using my qi to help contain and direct the force. The fabric grew hot under my touch but didn't burn - her control was improving. I could feel the phantom sensation of feathers brushing against my hands.
Minutes stretched as we remained locked in the delicate dance of energies. My arms began to tremble from maintaining the precise flow of power. Sweat soaked through my shirt, and my energy channels, my meridians, ached from the sustained effort. Just as I felt my focus starting to waver, a familiar chime rang in my head.
[You’ve absorbed a minuscule amount of life energy. Your invisible stat, Vitality, has boosted somewhat. Your lifespan has increased by two days.]
I stared at the notification and let out a long sigh, slowly withdrawing my hands. Two days. Really? After all that effort, just two days. At this rate, it would take months to recover what I'd lost. The disappointment settled heavily in my chest.
Solara slumped forward slightly, her breathing heavy. "Are we done? Did... did it work?" Her voice was rough with exhaustion.
"A little." I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "We'll need more practice. And don't worry, doing this is cultivation. Training. Both our energies are increasing as we do it; I’m not wasting your time.”
I didn't mention how minimal the gain had been - no need to discourage her when we were just starting.
****
The next few nights blurred together in a haze of golden qi and phoenix fire. Solara and I fell into a rhythm – she'd arrive after curfew, we'd cultivate for an hour or two, then part ways, exhausted but slightly stronger. My lifespan ticked up gradually. Two days here, three days there. Progress, but painfully slow.
Sitting in class a few days after we started, I stared at Katheran clicking the chalk against the board as a dangerous thought crept in. True dual cultivation, the kind performed during intimate acts, would exponentially amplify the effects. It’ll be much faster…
The mere idea of suggesting it to Solara made me shake my head fast. True, we'd grown closer through our nightly sessions, but that would cross too many lines.
Besides, there was Lilian to consider. And Nebula... who still didn't know about Lilian and me. That particular conversation appeared in my head like a storm cloud. The thought of hurting either of them twisted my stomach into knots.
With a heavy sigh, I pushed the idea away. Some paths were better left unexplored.
A gentle tap on my shoulder pulled me from my brooding thoughts. Prince Rhydar's emerald eyes studied me with concern, his usual regal composure tinged with worry.
"Are you alright, Iskandaar? You've been sighing quite heavily."
True, I’m in a classroom. I need to be more conscious about it. I forced a light chuckle, straightening in my seat. "Nah. Just too much studying is getting to me. Nothing serious." The lie felt hollow even as I said it.
"Oh? The great Iskandaar Romani struggling with studies?" Alaric leaned forward from the seat behind me, his voice carrying a playful tone. His golden hair caught the afternoon sunlight streaming through the classroom windows. "That's a first."
"Not everyone can coast through classes on pure talent like you, Alaric," Rhydar shot back with a slight smile, his fingers drumming absently on his textbook.
"Hey, I work hard too-"
Three pieces of chalk cut through the air like arrows. My Demonic Sphere screamed, and combat instincts kicked in. I ducked instinctively, and the chalk whizzed past where my head had been. Two solid thunks followed by matching yelps told me Alaric and Rhydar weren't as fortunate. The sound of their protests echoed through the suddenly quiet classroom.
"If you three are done with your little chat..." Professor Katheran's stern voice carried across the classroom, his tired face set in familiar lines of disapproval. His eyes landed on me, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Nice dodge, Romani. Though you might want to be more careful of your surroundings."
Confused, I tilted my head. Then, I glanced behind me. My heart sank into my stomach at the sight. Nebula sat there, her nose reddened from where my sudden movement had caused the chalk to hit her instead. Her eyes twitched dangerously as she stared at me, a small white smudge on her otherwise perfect features making the situation somehow worse.
I offered what I hoped was an apologetic smile, though I could feel it wavering at the edges. She just narrowed her eyes further, the temperature around her desk seeming to drop several degrees. Solara looked at us in worry from the seat beside her.
…..
When class ended, I rushed to catch up with her in the hallway, weaving through the crowd of students. "Nebula, wait! I'm sorry about earlier-"
"I don't want to talk right now." Her voice was ice cold as she quickened her pace, not even looking back at me. The sound of her boots clicking against the stone floor echoed with finality.
"But-"
"No." She disappeared around the corner, leaving me standing alone in the corridor, surrounded by the bustling afternoon crowd that seemed to part around my stillness.
I frowned, running a hand through my hair, feeling the familiar tension headache building behind my eyes. I hate this treen drama bullshit. Can’t she be straight? She'd been acting like this for days now, distant and cold. In her defense, she’d always been like that, but I thought we were getting closer.
Something was clearly wrong, and the worry gnawing at my conscience suggested I might know exactly what it was. This was earlier than the event in the game, but this had to be it.
Tonight, I decided, I would visit her dorm and get to the bottom of this, no matter how uncomfortable the conversation might be.
****
Night came in no time, and I stood outside her door, hand raised to knock. The hallway felt unusually quiet, the kind of stillness that made every small sound echo. My knuckles rapped against the wood, the sound sharp in the evening air.
No response.
I knocked again, louder this time. "Nebula? It's me. We need to talk."
Footsteps approached from the other side, hesitant and light. The door remained closed.
"I'm busy with studies," her muffled voice came through. The same excuse, yet again.
"No." I kept my voice firm but gentle. "Not this time. Either you open this door, or we have this conversation through it. Your choice."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. Just as I considered knocking again, the door creaked open. Nebula stood there, her silver hair slightly disheveled, dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion.
"Can't this wait?" She sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "Just because we're engaged doesn't mean we need to cling to each other constantly."
Any other man might have felt the sting of rejection, might have backed away hurt. But I saw through her attempt to push me away. Something else lurked beneath her studied indifference, a tension in her shoulders that spoke of deeper troubles.
"It's not about the engagement." I kept my voice level, matter-of-fact. "As a member of my cult, I have the authority of checking up on you."
She stayed silent, her fingers tightening on the doorframe. "Where's Mirella?" I glanced past her into the room. "It’s off for you to open the door yourself?"
"She's... busy elsewhere." She said, and that caught my interest. Mirella was rarely away from Nebula's side.
"Mind if I come in?" I asked. Another sigh escaped her lips before she nodded, stepping aside to let me pass.
Books lay scattered across her study table, papers filled with neat handwriting spread between them. She had been studying, that much was true. But there had to be more to it. The desperate intensity of it, the way the books seemed more shield than tool – that told a different story.
"Trying to distract yourself with books?" I picked up one of the texts, noting the advanced magical theory.
"I don't know what you're on about, Iskandaar,” she crossed her arms defensively. "Midterms are close, and I want a scholarship. Unlike the son of a wealthy Count, a subpar Baron’s daughter has a lot to study, you know?”
"...Yeah," I set the book down, studying her face. The shadows under her eyes seemed darker up close, her normally perfect posture showing signs of strain. My mind raced through different approaches, weighing how best to break through the walls she'd built.
I decided to be direct. Dancing around the issue would only prolong whatever was eating at her, and I'd spent enough time watching her spiral downward these past weeks. How she acted reminded me too much of myself during my early kickboxing days. Before particularly difficult fights, the weight of decisions threatened to crush me.
"Something's bothering you." Not a question, but a statement. "And it's not just about the studies." My golden eyes tracked her movements, cataloging every micro-expression that might betray her true state.
Nebula's shoulders tensed, her fingers curling around the edge of the nearest book like an anchor. "Nothing's wrong. I told you, I'm just-"
"Busy? Yeah, I heard that excuse the first dozen times." I stepped closer, watching her reaction. The slight twitch of her jaw, the way her breathing hitched - telltale signs I'd learned to read over months of friendship and shared battles. She's gotten better at hiding her emotions but not good enough. "I've noticed this since the day I woke up, Nebula. The avoiding, the excessive studying, pushing everyone away. Solara mentioned you've been skipping meals during lunch hours, too." My voice carried an edge of concern I couldn't quite mask.
She turned away, but I caught the slight tremor in her hands as she pretended to organize her already pristine stack of notes. The moonlight streaming through the window cast harsh shadows across her face, making her seem even more fragile.
"I gave you space," I continued, keeping my voice gentle, remembering how my own walls had once been just as high, built brick by brick from years of training and combat. "Figured you'd either work it out yourself or come to me when ready. But you've done neither. So here I am."
"There's nothing to talk about,” her voice came out barely above a whisper, head lowered, silver hair falling forward to shield her face like a protective curtain.
I moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension beneath my palm. The fabric of her uniform felt cold under my touch. "I'm here, Nebula. Whatever it is, I'll help you. You know I will. Then why're you doing this?"
She lifted her face, tears gathering in her crimson eyes, making them shimmer like fresh blood in the dim light. “I-” she started, but no more words came out. With a soft whimper, she stepped forward and pressed her forehead against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her slight frame tremble beneath my touch. My Demonic Sphere pulsed gently as if picking up the chaotic swirl of her emotions like static in the air. "Silly girl, did I not solve all your problems before? Why are you hiding things from me? It's alright. You can tell me anything." The weight of my elven pendant pressed between us.
We stood like that for a moment, her fingers gripping my shirt tight enough that I could feel her nails through the fabric. Finally, she spoke, voice muffled against my chest. “Things are complicated sometimes, you know,” she said, “not everything can be solved by swinging your sword, Iskandaar.”
“Tell me about it,” I kissed her head. “We can figure it out together then. What is it?”
"It's…” she hesitated and then looked up. Her tears now trailed down her cheek, her eyeliners messy. “It's my mother."
I hummed softly, running a hand down her back in steady, calming strokes, feeling each vertebra through her uniform. "Your stepmother again? Is she causing trouble back home?"
"No," a voice called from behind me, sending ice through my veins and setting every nerve-ending alight. "Not her stepmother."
Every instinct screamed danger. Goosebumps spread across my skin as I turned, pushing Nebula behind me protectively. Ahead of me, perched in the window with the moon casting her in silhouette, sat a woman I'd hoped not to meet again.
My hand instinctively twitched, ready to make my Starlight Sword materialize, muscle memory from countless battles taking over. My golden eyes glared into her red ones.
Munera Obsidian, Nebula's biological mother, met my gaze with predatory intensity. Her presence filled the room like a gathering storm, suffocating in its power. "Been a while, Romani boy." Her lips curved into a dangerous smile that never reached her eyes. "I am disappointed how you failed to kill your enemy this time. A mere Demonic General, how could someone of your caliber let him go?"
Shit, I was right. I kept my body between her and Nebula, my muscles tightened. The air was dense with unspoken threats as we stared each other down, my Demonic Sphere already mapping possible escape routes, and my pendant grew warm against my chest, Vyrn waiting for my call.
Comments
The Hand Behind the Veil
That was the plan until the midterm studies fell on his shoulders, alongside the lifespan issue too
musashi
I thought he was going to go on a leveling spree. And if dual cultivation isn't intimate then you're doing it wrong.
Ron1990
Oh, this will be interesting. Will Munera try to use Iskandaar to gain more power or will she merely try to kill him? Or will they have some relaxed tea and cookies, to get known each other better? I'm excited to read the next chapter.
Detectivetrap23
Uh oh… mother in laws here. This will not be a fun conversation for iskandaar. At least his lie about his relationship with nebula is a lot more true now than it was when he first told it to her haha He’s also kind of lucky he hasn’t had the Lillian conversation with nebula yet, his best chance of survival here is nebula wanting her mom to not kill him
James Faulkner
Tftc!
