New Life As A Max Level Archmage

Suyin accompanied Vianora to her apprentice’s match. They arrived right as it was beginning, which Suyin doubted was a coincidence. Vianora had likely timed her bout to finish at the last moment.

After a few seconds of standing in hesitation by the elf’s side, Suyin ventured, “There are some matters we could discuss, if you are willing.” She didn’t know if Vianora wanted to observe her apprentice in silence.

“There are?”

“I won’t press on the matter of your sword, as you’ve made your thoughts on that clear. For me to develop and train you in a particular style, however, I do need to understand what weapon arts you wish to use—or which spells. You seem to exclusively use that black energy… will you continue doing so?”

Vianora stayed quiet, and Suyin almost retracted the question. Her nerves turned out to be premature.

“It’s a spell, yes, not a weapon art. And it’s all I intend to use this tournament. It and other variations that I’m developing.”

Suyin took note of the phrasing. Intend to use. “You know other spells as well?” There wasn’t a strictly practical reason to ask, but she wanted to know more about the strange swordmaster.

“A variety. But this new development… you could call it my primary reason for participating. Perhaps I’ll rely on [Blink] or other utility spells when we make it to the higher brackets.”

“I see. Thank you for elaborating.”

Vianora, it seemed, was not committed to total secrecy. Her earlier guardedness had likely stemmed from them having been strangers. Now that they’d made each other's acquaintance, she was clearly willing to extend a measure of trust.

Suyin had started to wonder if the elf was one of those mages who could only—or chose to only—practice a single branch of magic. But that wasn’t the case.

She paid special attention to the allusion to [Blink]. She had heard that spatial magic was especially difficult, though most Titled mages were surely capable of it.

Most Titled mages, she inwardly scoffed. As if they’re running around in hordes. There might be twenty in the world.

“That’s good,” Suyin continued after a pause of contemplation. “Spells are much easier to integrate into a simplified fighting style than weapon arts are, for obvious reasons.”

Perhaps the largest difference between magic and weapon arts was that a weapon art needed to be activated in a specific way, thus limiting what kinds of movements Vianora could make. The upside was that they didn’t require splitting one’s attention like casting did. They were a way of wielding a weapon to create an effect—no divided focus required.

Though, Suyin doubted Vianora had much of a problem multitasking anyway.

“Pardon if this question is prying, but that magic of yours… is it related to the void?” Suyin asked suddenly.

Vianora glanced over, eyes narrowing. Coming from her, it was the equivalent of a startled flinch. “What makes you think that?”

“I’ve only heard secondhand accounts, but black and violet are associated with the void, are they not? Your sword is especially reminiscent of how voidbeasts have been described.” Suyin shrugged. It was hardly a stretch, not that she believed the sword had somehow been created from the corpses of those beasts. That material—down to the scrap—had been deemed property of the Crown.

She doubted Vianora would be walking around with open proof that she was committing High Treason. Titled had a lot of immunity from the law, but not to that extent, particularly in Meridian. The Sorceress herself would swoop down and correct Vianora’s behavior.

So rather, the sword must have adopted the void’s appearance for one reason or another. Perhaps she was there that day. She might have gone through some trial, and the System awarded it to her? The craftsmanship is interesting too… did it evolve after a tribulation? Suyin wanted answers, but Vianora had sounded firm on the matter of her sword.

“Perhaps I drew the comparison because everyone is talking about it,” Suyin elaborated. “It is the subject of the century, after all. Please, feel free not to answer. I am merely letting my tongue run.”

They stood in silence for a handful of seconds. “It’s related to the void,” Vianora finally replied, “but I don’t wish to say more on the topic.”

Suyin’s eyebrows rose, but only a fraction. “Of course. Thank you for indulging this one’s curiosity.”

The answer didn’t shock her. The void had taken the world by storm, and most disasters resulted in the victims—and their abilities—being shaped by the event. She wouldn’t bat an eye if other Titled had picked up void-related skills too.

Mages in particular had been studying that phenomenon day and night. Suyin had no way of guessing how much progress they’d made, but she had evidence in the form of this elven mage that they’d found some success in imitating those void energies.

“And why did you join?” Vianora asked.

Suyin blinked, then understood what the woman meant. “I doubt the answer will interest you,” she huffed. “I’m beholden to my master’s whims. He wished to join, so I had to as well. Though, I don’t detest the opportunity to spar with worthy opponents.”

“I see. Why is he here, then?”

“He’s a private man, the same as you. But he’s in it for the prizes being offered. I can say that much.” She didn’t specify the grand prize—the open offer given by the Sorceress to award the winner whatever they wanted, within her means of granting. Which meant nearly anything in the world.

She didn’t know exactly what Master Faleryn wanted. Him being who he is, he’s probably keeping it a secret to mess with me. It wouldn’t be some groundbreaking reveal. Master was retired; he had no hidden motives. These days, he pursued women more than the sword.

Honestly, when he wins, he might ask the Sorceress for a chance to court her.

Suyin shivered and ejected the line of thought with prejudice. Even he wasn’t that audacious.

“He seems strong,” Vianora commented.

“He is.”

“He strikes me as someone who, if he won, would ask for a troublesome reward.”

Suyin laughed. It was a comically timed statement after her previous musings. “That sounds about right,” she agreed wryly.

Also, she thought, if she’s assuming he has a chance of winning, she noticed how strong he was. I was starting to doubt that fact, given how dismissive she’s been, but she just… doesn’t care.

Fascinating.

The conversation tapered off, with both of them watching the black-haired beastkin’s match. If Suyin had to guess the girl’s level, she would assume it to be somewhere in the high five hundreds. She wouldn’t put any skin on the line, though. The girl hadn’t been pressed in any of her bouts so far—a close duel said a lot more about one’s strength than a lopsided one—and Suyin didn’t know magecraft well to start with. Mages were disproportionately prominent among the ranks of Titled, but they were rare on a global scale. She had less experience with them than most other classes.

When the fight finished and the beastkin headed over, Vianora offered a “Well done.”

“The second [Scorchlance] was sloppy. But thank you.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Honestly, I don’t even care about these fights anymore. I need to hurry up and learn—” A pause, green eyes flicking to Suyin. “That new spell. So I can start practicing with it.”

“You can withdraw, if you want,” Vianora said.

The beastkin wavered over the offer. “I do still need the combat experience,” she begrudgingly admitted. “It’s good getting warmed up before the youth bracket, too. Just impatient, I guess.”

“It’s your choice. But the fights don’t last long. When’s your next one?”

They shared schedules, which Suyin joined in on. Afterward, they split up to handle their respective training.

As she and Vianora walked over to an open area, Suyin considered what she’d heard. A ‘new spell.’ Did that mean the elf was training the girl in the unique branch of magic? Another small mystery solved… maybe. She thought about asking outright, but she felt she’d been nosy enough.

“Now,” Vianora said. “Where were we?”

Their lessons continued. Suyin hadn’t finished—or really begun—constructing the style she’d theorized, so she had to improvise as she went. She quickly found herself absorbed in the mission. Breaking down swordcraft into a set of instructions so lacking in nuance probably didn’t hold much true merit, but the exercise was novel enough that she began thinking in ways she never had before. Began considering the blade in a unique manner. Not even some of Master Faleryn’s lessons could claim the same feat.

The rapid feedback was nice, too. A short lesson, then Vianora would enter her next match, Suyin could observe, and adjust. By the time they’d finished their ten silver-rank duels, they had hammered out the basics of a system that utilized the elf’s overwhelming speed to allow her to follow the same movements—and thus continuously present clean swordsmanship.

Repetitive swordsmanship, yes. More like a woman going about a drill than engaging in a proper sword fight. But clean nevertheless. Suyin had succeeded in masking the horrible amateurishness, and had taken away quite a lot of insight from the process.

When they parted for the day, Suyin began puzzling over how to expand the style—they’d only built the skeleton. Especially as they climbed higher through the tournament and found more varied opponents, the formulaic approaches would start to crumble.

She might be able to make something that lasted even through the initial matches of the real tournament. Against high-orichalcum and Titled.

Though that depended on Vianora. Suyin didn’t get the impression the elf was on the low end of Titled, but she knew nothing for certain.

I wonder how far she’ll get.

Suyin didn’t share the same enthusiasm many people had for watching titans brawl and establish a hierarchy, but now that she knew another Titled other than Master Faleryn, she had to admit she was growing more invested in the results. And not just because she would get to see Vianora’s true skill, but because Suyin wanted the elf to do well for the woman’s own sake. Though intimidating, she seemed like a pleasant person. Suyin wished her the best.

When she found Master Faleryn, he miraculously didn’t have a woman wrapped around him. Maybe he’d fulfilled that obligation earlier in the day… he’d only completed six matches, somehow.

“So,” he opened cheerfully. “What did you learn about our fair elven friend?”

“Learn from her, you mean.”

“I said what I said.”

“I know you did.” She fixed him with a stern look. “I’m not your spy. Besides, why are you pretending you didn’t listen in?”

“She hid your conversations from me.”

“She did? I didn’t sense any magic around us.”

“You are, alas, a disciple for a reason.”

That stung her pride, though it shouldn’t have. She might as well take offense at being told the sky was blue.

Still, she would have thought she could sense the ongoing magic of someone right next to her, even a Titled.

“You didn’t cut a path through anyway?” She knew her master could. There was little his sword couldn’t cleave—even so cleanly that a mage wouldn’t know their spell had been tampered with.

Master Faleryn’s jaw dropped. “And offer such unconscionable insult?”

She returned a disapproving gaze. Her master wasn’t a wicked man, but he wouldn’t think twice about eavesdropping. Earlier this morning, he had pretended to assault a stranger simply to see how she would react. The very same woman in question, in fact.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t certain I could slip by unnoticed.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Truly?” she demanded.

“Some tasks are lopsided in difficulty, girl,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “A divination requires a thousand times more power to conjure than to defend against. Slipping past an eavesdropping ward without making the slightest noise is… unreasonably challenging.”

“I see.”

Still, she didn’t think she’d ever seen her master acknowledge someone else's competence. His vagrant lifestyle hardly has us bumping into other Titled, she reminded herself. The admission shouldn’t have caught her off guard as much as it did.

But he was her master. He had raised her from six years of age. Maybe a bit of that oldest lie lingered in her thoughts… but one’s parents weren’t invincible. Even Sword Saint Yxamas Faleryn would have fallen in battle against a Cataclysm.

“So what’d you learn?” the old man asked.

“If she deliberately prevented you from listening in, then our conversations were private.”

He clutched at his heart. “Betrayed by my disciple! My own daughter! Treachery of the highest order!”

Her eye twitched. Loyalty to one’s master hardly included gossiping about everyone she ran into, especially if they’d implicitly asked for her trust. Maybe if there’d been a threat to his wellbeing, there would have been a conflict of morality, but the situation held no such complication.

“At least tell me what you learned from her,” he said, dropping the dramatics.

She bowed. “That, I can do, Master.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!