The Martial God - Chapter 63

Chapter 63: The Elven Delegation

My eyes fluttered open slowly, and I found myself in my room. Memories of last night flashed before me, making me sigh as the golden light of morning poured into the room, spilling across the bed and warming my face. 

My head was a little heavy, with techniques spiraling like broken words. Sometimes, I dreamt of performing and observing techniques in the memories of the Heavenly Demon. Last night, I seemed to have dreamt of my- Chun Ma’s fight against the Emei Sect leader.

I blinked, adjusting to the light, and turned my head. Something soft and warm clung to my arm, keeping me from moving too far.

Lilian lay beside me, her almond-colored skin catching the glow of the sun. Her messy hair framed her face, and strands fell over her slightly parted lips. Her expression was unguarded, peaceful, with a pleasant smile that softened her usual sharp features.

I allowed myself a moment to take in the sight, feeling the regret of cheating slip away. It would definitely come biting my backside, but it was too late to regret it. I pushed myself up slowly, careful not to wake her, as I gently freed my arm from her grip. The bed creaked faintly as I moved, and I began to shift my legs over the side.

Before I could leave, her arm tightened around mine, surprising me. I looked back. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, red irises hazy with sleep as they focused on me. She stared for a moment, and then a small, teasing smile curved her lips.

“You’re up,” I said, my voice quiet in the stillness.

“Mhm… yeah,” she murmured, her gaze drifting around the room before returning to me. I wondered what she was searching for, and she answered as if she could read my mind. “I was expecting food, you know. Like how you cooked for her,” Her grin widened, her voice turning playful. “Then again, I’m sure the nobles of this empire would lose their minds to hear a maid demand such a thing from her lord.”

I chuckled, leaning down to flick her nose lightly. “Oh, come on, you have to stop comparing yourself with her. This isn’t a competition. Plus, I was just about to cook something for you,” I said, “not my fault that your ears are far too sharp for me to sneak out unnoticed.”

Her laughter was soft, a sound that lingered in the room. I tried to leave the bed again, but she stopped me. “No,” she said, her arms tightening slightly as she pulled me closer, her warm flesh resting against mine. “Stay… just… for a bit longer.” Her hand moved, her fingers brushing against my back, tracing idle patterns over my skin. “Then maybe we can cook together… If you want to?”

I stared down at her, feeling my resolve to leave slip under the weight of her gaze. She looked vulnerable like this, far from the fiery, sharp-edged girl I knew she was. There was something softer in her expression, something I couldn’t bring myself to deny. It made me lose my emotions last night, too.

“Alright,” I said at last, settling back onto the bed. “Just a bit longer.”

Her arms relaxed, and a satisfied smile spread across her lips as she nestled closer. The room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the morning outside; that silence felt like enough for now.

****

The Fenixia mansion felt colder tonight, thanks to the snowflakes raining from the sky. The air carried an unspoken weight as I walked through the main gates, hearing the flickering embers of a hearth. In my hand, the envelope I’d forced from Amelia felt heavier than it should, its contents as much a burden as a solution. I stepped in through the large door, finding Nebula sitting and reading a textbook for our class.

I recalled it to be the homework that Katheran had given us for the next class, and she was preparing for it. Luckily for her, or perhaps unfortunately, since she’d miss a valuable class, she wouldn’t have to do that homework any longer. 

“Nebula,” I said.

“Oh,” she said as she looked up. “You’re back?”

I tossed the envelope onto the table between us, watching as her eyebrows rose slightly. “That’s your leave of absence,” I said plainly. “It should allow you to ignore the academy grounds for the next few days, allowing the winter festival to start and end. Before you say your complaints, this is better than letting Victor make his next move in the festival.”

Her fingers traced the edge of the envelope but didn’t open it immediately. “So you say,” she said, her tone neutral but edged with something. “And where exactly am I supposed to go? You can’t be thinking I’ll just disappear into thin air. It’d take too long if I decide to return home.”

I leaned back, pointing toward the hallway. “Not thin air. Why else do we have the hidden chamber?” I pointed inside, gesturing to where we’d made quite some memories. “That’s the best place for you to hide in. No one will be able to sense your energy there, so you can freely train.”

She frowned, but I could tell it was a playful one. “You’re locking me up,” she said, her voice light but with a challenging undertone.

“Far from it,” I replied, shrugging. “You’ll be training. Mirella’s out working on securing something to help you mask your nature better,” that was the reason she wasn’t here and was busy somewhere in the city, “but until then, I’ve got something else for you. A mana circulation technique.” I leaned forward slightly, letting the weight of my words sink in. 

“What’s that?”

“Well, you know how meditation works, right? It helps a person focus and calm down. This is the next stage. If you master it, you’ll gain control over your energy—and, by extension, your nature. You won’t lose control again, not even under stress.”

Her smirk faded, replaced by a look of cautious interest. “What’s the catch? There must be something,” she said. “Any side effects or a certain requirement?”

Before I could answer, the soft sound of footsteps caught my attention. Lilian stepped into the room, carrying a tray in one hand. Her movements were smooth as she approached her, eyes flickering at me for a moment. 

Without a word, she placed two cups of tea in front of us, the faint aroma filling the air, then settled herself beside me. Her own cup was cradled loosely in her hands.

“The catch is not in the effects. There’s no side effect. The catch is in how you’ll attain the technique. You’ll need to take a System Oath first,” Lilian said casually, though her tone carried the weight of a statement that left no room for argument.

Nebula blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her eyes flicked between Lilian and me, her confusion giving way to a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “A System Oath? What exactly is she talking about?” Her voice held a sharp edge, but the question was directed at me.

“She’s right,” I replied, nodding toward Lilian. I leaned back slightly, meeting Nebula’s gaze. “This technique is sensitive. Once you learn it, I’ll count you as part of my Sect. No outsiders can know it, not Mirella, not your father.”

Nebula arched a brow, her skepticism plain. “Your… Sect?”

“The Heavenly Demon Divine Sect,” I answered smoothly, watching for her reaction. “Or cult. Okay, fine. It’s a cult.” I folded under no pressure. Something in me disliked painting the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult as something lesser. 

It was a Sect, true, but beyond that, it was a religion.

Her expression froze for a moment before she let out a soft sigh. “I’d have laughed if you hadn’t told me about it beforehand. I didn’t get to ask this before, but are you sure the Twelve Gods won’t smite you for this? What about the United Church?”

I leaned back, smirking. “That’s not really my problem. I think I can handle it. The problem will be yours if you decide to join.”

Lilian sipped her tea, cutting through the exchange with a measured tone. “Don’t worry, we don’t commit evil,” she said, setting her cup down. “Ours is nothing like those shady underground cults you’re imagining. It’s about loyalty and discipline, and in exchange, we get powers. And an Oath ensures the knowledge you gain stays protected within the people of the cult.”

Nebula’s gaze lingered on Lilian for a moment before returning to me. “Alright. First, tell me about this oath. What exactly am I agreeing to?”

Lilian chimed in before I could respond, her tone matter-of-fact. “Zenthara il'nor vashka, I solemnly swear upon my soul and the essence of my being to guard the sacred knowledge of the Mana Circulation Technique bestowed by Iskandaar Romani. Let my oath be bound by ancient law, and may the wrath of eternity claim me should I falter in my vow.” She paused and then added. “And add, ‘If I ever betray him, may I die instantly.’ It’s a precaution.”

I shot her a sidelong glance. “The betrayal clause is too much. It’s not as though I don’t trust her. Plus, some situations that might technically count as betrayal—like cheating in card games or something—would complicate things unnecessarily. And honestly, is the whole ‘Zenthara il'nor vashka’ part even necessary? I was reading about Oaths earlier, and it seems System Oaths worked even without saying the ancient language. Back then, the System didn’t exist, so fancy words were needed to connect to the Gods.”

Nebula chuckled softly at that, her arms crossing as she leaned back in her chair. “What a horrifying fate—losing a game and paying for it with my life.”

“See?” I gestured toward her. “She gets it.” Besides, I hadn’t made Lilian herself take such an oath. The girl had surprised me by wanting to leave yesterday, but one thing I knew for sure was that she wouldn’t betray me. She wouldn’t even have talked about leaving if she didn’t feel neglected with her feelings toward me.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult wouldn’t last long if I built it over zero trust, making my followers take excessive [Oaths].

Lilian rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath about soft-hearted leaders. “Fine,” she said. “But the oath is non-negotiable.”

Nebula looked at me, curious if she should take the maid’s words at face value. When I nodded, she sighed and sat forward, her expression shifting into something more serious. “Alright,” she said, her voice steady. She raised her chin slightly, her gaze locking onto mine. “I solemnly swear upon my soul and the essence of my being to guard the sacred knowledge of the Mana Circulation Technique soon to be bestowed by my dear Iskandaar Romani. Let my oath be bound by ancient law, and may the wrath of eternity claim me should I falter in my vow.”

The air around her shifted slightly, a faint hum of energy rippling outward. I felt the Oath take root, binding her words to her being. She opened her eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her gaze. She must be reading a similar message to the one that’d appeared before me.

-

System Alert:

• Nebula Carlstein has sworn an oath of silence regarding the Mana Circulation Technique that Iskandaar Romani will provide. Breach of this oath will result in severe penalties, including death.

-

“Well,” I said, standing. “That’s that.” I snapped my fingers, and from my Soul Storage, a scroll materialized in my hand. I handed it to her. 

“This is it?”

“Yes. This will show you the process. It won’t be easy making your energy flow in such intricate patterns since you have no prior experience, but try to copy the feeling of when your mana surges through you when you activate a Skill or Spell. Well, I’ll show you the first time anyway, so you’ll manage. As for the effects, it worked well enough when I made my demonic qi flow in that pattern.” I said, “Not that I have murderous urges like you vampires, but it did bring a sense of clarity.”

Nebula took the scroll, her fingers brushing against mine briefly. “This will be helpful if it works.” She looked up and gave me a faint smile, her eyes glinting with determination. “Thank you, Iskandaar,” she said, her voice quieter than before.

I glanced at Lilian, who was watching the exchange with a slight tilt of her head. For once, she didn’t offer a comment, only sipped her tea. 

“Yes,” I said, turning to her, “Now, let’s get started.”

****

The morning was crisp and sharp. Although it had stopped snowing earlier, my breathing was visible in the cold air as I walked to the academy’s main street. Snow blanketed the rooftops, but the roads were being cleaned by Ice and Wind [Mages] to prepare for the caravans that’d come.

The muffled sound of footsteps crunching against the snow created a calm atmosphere. I knew I couldn’t enjoy such peace for long, as the festival would begin tomorrow. 

For the last few days, I’d been busy training Lilian and Solara. They had a gist about breathing and circulation techniques, and now it was time for the real martial arts. I couldn’t teach them demonic techniques, nothing like the Heavenly Demon’s fearsome arts, as I couldn’t risk people noticing it. Rather, I taught them techniques of the orthodox factions. Even now, my mind wandered back to those nights, flashes of memories that weren’t my own. The Heavenly Demon’s techniques would invade my dreams, showing me glimpses of battles fought and techniques perfected by warriors far removed from the demonic arts. 

In those dreams of Chun Ma’s memories, I could perceive his enemies' techniques thanks to how experienced a fighter he was. I could implement this clear understanding into recreating those techniques. Those were what I taught to the two girls.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. My eyes returned to the academy gates as the sound of approaching hooves echoed down the cobblestone streets. The elves had arrived.

“Iskandar!” A voice called from behind, and I found Solara waving at me. She unfurled her wings and flapped toward me, landing by my side. “You didn’t wait for me.”

“Ah, sorry. I forgot.” We exchanged greetings and continued walking. The [Mages] were almost done cleaning as we approached the students and professors who had gathered in droves, buzzing with anticipation and unease.

We joined the crowd and faced the streets. Not long after, banners marked with the Elven Kingdom of Sylvanielle’s intricate sigil flapped in the wind, their elegant designs making people stare in awe. The banners showed first, the caravans later, barging through the academy’s large gates. 

The elves had arrived, and their presence spread over the crowd like a storm cloud—not ominous, but something pressing. Humans and Elves hadn’t been at war in decades, so there was nothing to worry about, but the stories of old times alone made people wary.

I leaned casually against a lamppost, letting my gaze wander over the growing crowd. Solara whispered, “Shouldn’t you stand more respectfully?”

“It’s fine,” I said. The academy staff stood in neat rows at the forefront, their formal robes doing little to mask their discomfort. We were in the backside, nobody would notice us. I watched Amelia at the center, doing her part as the Chancellor, exuding her usual aura of calm authority. She was probably the safest person against the elves, both for her strength and for her status as a half-dragon. Unlike a certain Barbarian tribe from the Volcanic Islands, the Elves revered dragons with the same respect they’d to a divinity.

Amelia’s presence seemed to keep the more nervous students from outright fidgeting. Surprisingly, Victor Seraph, who stood near the professors, also exuded a similar aura. Whatever the young man’s personality was, his strength was undeniable. Prince Orion stood beside him. 

The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed down the cobblestone street, followed by the steady beat of ceremonial drums. 

I straightened slightly, watching as the procession came into view. The lead carriage was a marvel to the eyes, its polished silver surface gleaming even under the pale winter sun. Elven guards marched in formation, their armor catching the light in a way that made them look almost otherworldly. Then again, the forest kingdom of Sylvanielle might as well be a different world.

The caravan halted in front of the main gates, and for a moment, everything stilled. The crowd’s murmurs died down, and the professors straightened. An anticipatory silence replaced them as the lead carriage door opened. A woman stepped out, her movements fluid, every step deliberate.

[Vaelion Sylvenel; Level 160]

Her presence was striking, almost similar to Amelia herself, a kind that demanded attention naturally. Her silver hair fell like a cascade of moonlight, her pale green eyes sharp as they scanned the gathered crowd. She didn’t need to speak to command the space around her. It was clear she was someone who had never been questioned—and never needed to be. That was natural, given she was the sister of the Elven Queen, one of the few 8th Ascension that the elves had to offer.

Amelia stepped forward, her expression warm but composed. She extended her hand to Lady Vaelion, who accepted it with a small, graceful nod. “Lady Vaelion,” Amelia said, her voice carrying easily over the crowd. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you and your delegation to Waybound Academy. It’s been far too long for such an honor to befall us.”

“The honor is mutual, Chancellor Duskleaf,” Vaelion replied, her tone smooth, almost melodic. “Your academy’s reputation precedes you, as always. It’s beautiful already. We’ve long looked forward to this visit.”

Their exchange was polite, almost rehearsed, but there was an undertone of genuine respect. They spoke as though they’d known each other for years, and they likely had. Amelia had a way of forging connections in places you wouldn’t expect.

“Now,” Lady Vaelion said, turning to the carriage that led the others. “Please, allow me to introduce my good friend, Eryndor.” She said, and by then stood a man who looked as though he’d stepped straight out of a mythical painting with a little goatee. Elven men looked like the byproduct of a teen girl’s fantasy from back in my world. Eryndor Vaelith was a warrior-priest clad in armor that shimmered with an almost ethereal glow. 

[Eryndor Vaelith; Level 149]

Someone at the peak of the 7th Ascension was probably stuck in his Ascension Quest before he’d hit Level 150. He was more than what met the eye. “Chancellor,” he just nodded, his face unreadable, a mask of stoicism that somehow made him even more imposing. 

“Lastly, the most important person, my precious nephew,” Lady Vaelion said, gesturing to the carriage. A young man stepped out, walking in front of Lady Vaelion. “The Prince.” 

Amelia smiled warmly, making the prince blink and clear his throat. “You’re Aeliana’s son, eh? You look just like her, how beautiful,” she said, and the Prince replied in a low voice that I didn’t catch from here. He seemed like a shy young man, although not meek.

I looked at the back of the dragon woman with a raised eyebrow and then shrugged. Whatever. I focused on the prince instead. He was tall with lean muscles and a face that was more beautiful than handsome. He wasn’t someone I recognized from this episode but from a future one. He was the young man who might enroll in the Academy this time, something that didn’t happen in the game.

Prince Rhydar Sylvenel.

[Rhydar Sylvenel; Level 50]

A prodigy among prodigies, I see? I noted. Elves leveled up slower. Otherwise, they’d have ruled the world thanks to their impossibly long lifespan. Yet, this young man, who might not be a year older than me, was already higher level than me. He easily outshone Prince Orion, and that went for popularity, too, the way the girls were whispering like bees.

He was younger than I’d expected, and Victor seemed to be the same as he approached the prince, attempting to strike up a conversation. Prince Orion was nearby, but he was letting the older boy lead the conversation. I zoned out and just observed the elven prince. His hair was a blend of silver and blonde, catching the sunlight like spun silk. His green eyes were curious and cautious as they scanned the academy grounds. 

He didn’t move with the same deliberate grace as Lady Vaelion, but there was something commanding about him nonetheless. He looked like someone who knew his place in the world but was still figuring out how to wield it and how to interact with people. He wasn’t arrogant, from the looks of it.

The murmurs returned, quiet but noticeable, as the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Humans and elves had a long, complicated history, and no amount of ceremonial pomp could fully erase that tension. I saw it in the way some students avoided looking directly at the elves, their awe tempered by unease. Even the professors, who should’ve been used to diplomatic gatherings, seemed slightly off balance.

My face was serious too, but not because of the same reason. The event that was the Winter Festival. This was the beginning of Episode 5. 

I stayed where I was, content to watch from the sidelines, my mind busy before my eyes shifted to the Demon who hid among the elves. One of the Savage Sevens, except this one was even more powerful than the trollkin.

**

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The Veiled Man: The Veiled Man: Since so many reviews and comments mentioned the harem vibe in the story, I was skeptical about whether I wanted to add the tag or not. I wasn't sure about the direction of the story yet, and even if the vibe was there, I wasn't sure about the end result. Regardless, I added the Harem tag two weeks ago but wasn't sure if I'd keep it. 

As you can guess after reading the last few chapters, I’ve decided to stick with it. You can find the tag on the respective websites you came from.

It doesn't change much for existing readers. You'll receive the type of story you've been reading so far. There won't suddenly be smut and kissing, etc., in every chapter; the story will flow as naturally as it has been. (There will be romantic advances, of course, as you’ve read, but not the focus.) 

Given the tag, there might be girls on the covers later on too. Don't be frightened!!

Ah and! I'm currently getting Dev Edit done. Which means….! Good luck to me.