A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1), D'Artagnan Rey [best romantic novels to read .TXT] 📗

returned to the wildkin girl he had seen earlier. She also used some type of gauntlet or gloves and when she attacked, she seemed to strike with invisible claws of some kind. So the gauntlets were a possibility but unless he knew what they did, he had little opportunity to prepare.

Before he realized it, they had left the spire. Wulfsun pushed a massive pair of doors and they opened into a large dirt arena. A couple of stairways led to a large platform above and Zier and Jazai ascended the right side.

“Good luck, Devol,” the apprentice said as he turned and gave him a thumbs-up. “We have good healers, so don’t be afraid to go all out.”

The boy nodded and returned the gesture. “That’s good. I don’t have to worry about hurting Wulfsun too badly then.”

Zier snickered as the commander smirked. “If the boy didn’t sound so earnest, I would say he was mocking me.”

The young Magi discarded his pack at the edge of the entrance to the arena and moved to the right side as his opponent went left. His focus settled into calm and he swung the blade a few times to make sure he had acclimated to it. While it still felt entirely natural to wield it, he was again amazed by how weightless it felt to him given that it was much longer than the other weapons he was used to.

Satisfied, he faced Wulfsun, who had undone his jacket and tossed it aside to reveal a large chest plate with a similar pattern to his gauntlets. The giant crouched, clapped sharply, and extended his arms. “All right, boyo. Whenever you are ready, come at me with everything you’ve got!”

Devol nodded and held his blade with both hands on the grip. When he looked at the massive Templar now, he felt a little of the intimidation he had experienced earlier when he first saw him stride across the bridge. The man’s expression didn’t contain even a hint of anger or even seriousness, but rather a confident smirk and even a tinge of eagerness for battle. It made him realize again how gigantic he was, not only in stature but in sheer presence.

Despite this, he straightened, focused on his target, and let his Anima come forth. Wulfsun nodded approvingly and mirrored him. His shimmered a bright yellow-and-white. It was as wide as Vaust’s had first felt and not as oppressive but certainly fierce. The young Magi drew his blade to the side. He did not know what to expect from his opponent, but he had to be careful. Even if he was a simple brawler, a man his size combined with a Mana-infused strike would be enough to end this test very quickly.

Devol drew in a long, quiet breath and let his arms lower very briefly before he attacked the Templar. When he was a few yards away, he leapt to the side and struck at Wulfsun’s left arm. His adversary reacted with ease and merely raised his hand so his gauntlet blocked the blow, but Devol had feinted and now spun in place and swung so his strike aimed at the giant’s chest.

His sharp ears heard a chuckle from the commander when his blade met the armor. He slid back while he checked the chest plate with narrowed eyes. Surprisingly, he couldn’t see a single scratch so it must be fairly durable. But from what he had been told, a majestic could destroy even exotics.

Calmly, he stopped his slide and used the momentum to sprint forward as he drew his arm back to thrust the sword toward the Templar’s head. Wulfsun brought his right gauntlet to block but it seemed unlikely that it would be enough—it was not a shield after all. This assumption proved erroneous when the tip of his blade struck the gauntlet and it refused to budge an inch more.

The boy’s eyes widened as he landed and glanced at his opponent, who extended his palm and prepared to swipe. He ducked and a meaty hand whistled above his head with a rush of air. Without pause, he stepped back as he took his blade in both hands again and used Vis to summon as much Mana as he could in a short time. His opponent was unknown so he needed to test how much abuse the Templar could take before he showed even a hint that he would give. He brought his blade to the side before he swiped it again. Wulfsun blocked it with both gauntlets and a loud crash sounded through the arena. Zier and Jazai’s robes billowed from the wind kicked up by the impact and dust flurried around the two combatants.

When it settled, Devol strained against the commander’s defense. He noticed that his blade chafed against the metal of the man’s gauntlets, lowered his sword, and took a few steps back as he breathed deeply and narrowed his eyes. “It’s the armor itself, right?” he asked and his Mana flowed in his eyes. “That’s your majestic, isn’t it?”

The man’s smirk returned. “Aye, you’ve got it,” he replied and straightened. “But it protects more than only that.”

The truth soon became clear. Now that he had collected himself and used Vello to analyze his opponent, he could see that his Mana was centered on the chest plate and gauntlets but flowed out from there to his body as a whole. From the top of his head to his feet, it enveloped him in what appeared to be a full-body suit of armor created from his Mana.

“It looks almost exactly how Anima looked on Mr. Lebatt,” he noted and focused on the brighter light from the armor itself. “But it’s more solid. I should have noticed even before we started the match.”

“You did rush in a little too fast,” Wulfsun agreed. “But see here, boyo, this isn’t the typical defense Anima provides. It is far stronger than anything you are used to—which I would assume is not very much given that you only