Bombardment

Midnight, within a private room in the Mensa castle.

“He suppressed his growth for three full years!” Jaaron was shouting hysterically as he scuttled around the room, “Don’t you know what that means? He’s at the level of a sky saint, a duel with him means death! This is a trap I tell you, a trap!”

The atmosphere inside the room was gloomy and depressing, the place almost empty save for two rows of parallel chairs. On one side were ten old men with various degrees of strength, while the other held grand mages and saints like Jaaron. Yuria’s seat was towards the middle of her row, while Jaaron’s was close to the end. There was only one host seat, taken by Duke Mensa himself.

“What else could we do?” Yuria asked grimly,...