A Testament Of The Dark Magician

The morning light broke through the slackened drapes. And a rogue warm breeze walked into Roland's room. He removed a strand of braided hair away from his view. And his eyes refocused on the manual in his grasp.

Roland still couldn't decide whether he could complete this half-finished manual in time. He really wanted to advance to the Bronze stage before any other disgruntled family member made a pass at his life again.

Compared to the other Body Tempering Manuals his trusted aloof guardian spoke to him about. The Five Spear Shredded Body manual was specifically made to help him advance quickly. There was no mention of special herbs or particular apparatus needed. Most of the things he required were within his arm's reach.

This super-efficient power boost's one significant side effect was the unrelenting pain he was guaranteed to have to handle. Despite the crash course route, Roland would have to physically go through exactly what most Iron body people went through to advance to a Bronze body. Now, bearing in mind he was told this advancement, on average, lasts for 12-16 days. He would be accumulating all that pain...all in a single go.

He would need to undergo a procedure which breaks 95% of the bones within his body...again. Then, he would need to complete a particular stage to run liquid metal through his veins. 

Roland was close to folding the manual and throwing it away if not for Omega's ever-wise counsel. By council, Roland meant its vast database of knowledge and theories. Luckily for him, his AI chip devised a plan of action that reduced the risk of his dying. 

"If my goal is to get stronger as quickly as I can. This is my only option by the looks of it." 

His body was strange, and with each gruelling spar, he endured, his regeneration sped up quite noticeably. Roland went through the manual from back to front and found a helpful book from that grand library concerning body ranks and tempering one's mind, body and soul.

Apparently, not only did he inherit a lousy reputation, but he also inherited the past Roland's rather pathetic skillset. 

Roland scratched the side of his head while taking in the clear points about the manual. 

Each Rank has two stages, an early and a late. 

Early Stone 

Late Stone 

Early Iron 

Late Iron 

According to Omega's matrix, most kids who started training rather young usually followed a familiar progression pattern. By 14, Roland should've reached the Early Iron stages or been ready to break through from the stone. 

Before his transmigration, Roland had to live with being 16 years old and only about touching the early stone stages, no wonder his past self seemed deeply unsettled.

"From what I've read, I must go through three major stages to understand this art. The body's tempering and reconstruction. Next will be building a solid foundation. This manual advises that I forgo the traditional way of absorbing spiritual energy in the air. And rather focus just on a particular aspect of the spiritual energy in the environment." 

"I'll start the process tonight once I've received all the necessary apparatus." 

He heard a soft tap of knuckles wrapping themselves over the mahogany brown door, drawing his attention. 

Roland narrowed his gaze slightly before his lips parted. 

"Come in." 

The door sneered open, and a strange new face appeared outside of his door. It was a man dressed in the typical clothing Roland would expect a medieval knight to wear without the iron helmet. His impassive face sat stone cold and chiselled. A heavy moustache covered the top of his mouth, and his beady dark eyes beheld Roland with eyes of scrutiny for a few moments.

Soon enough, his voice grunted into a deep speech. 

"Young Lord, the hunting party are awaiting your presence for departure. We've gathered at the north gate. Ready to set out." 

Roland stood quietly for some moments. 'Hunting party?' He queried to himself. He leaned to one side and looked past the tall knight, hoping to find the mysterious guardian of his lurking nearby for some answers. 

'Tsk! Where's he hiding now.' 

Without the willow to confirm all of his suspicions and confusion. Roland was left to fend for himself like a newborn without its mother. He glanced down at the closed manual he placed against his bed, and Roland suddenly thought of an idea. 

"The Patriarch made this decree three summers ago. All children of the main house must attend the annual red boar hunt. That includes you despite your unworthy blood." The man's eyes were like steel balls glaring directly into his soul. And about the things he just said...

'Ouch?'

Roland could only laugh slightly. He wished he could say he was surprised hearing that. "R-right, so this h-hunt. This is specifically arranged by whom? And for what purpose?"

The knight looked him up and down for some moments, not in so much a rude way but a highly observant one.

"The Red Hunt is a tradition held by the descendants of the main house. And since Young lords Lotten and Goven are away from the realm...tsk, it falls to you. Bastard child of Diane"

Now that last verse sounded personal. Roland still couldn't figure out why his existence garnered so much disdain.

"You should hurry up and get dressed; here, this is yours." The guard removed his arm from his back. The knight held folded dark leathers and outside clothes bundled forcefully into his bear-like grip. Without warning, he tossed the clothes onto Roland's open arms. 

"By the way, names Aemon...and you better not take too long…young Lord." The man sneered.

With one brow cocked up, Roland watched the broad back leaving his chambers with mixed feelings. He looked at his change of clothes in his hands before exhaling a deep sigh.

'And another day of adventure begins.'

***

Roland found his new clothes fitted snuggly. He wore dark, rugged boots with light leather and a short green cape slung over his shoulders. He trailed down a set of spiralling stone stairs. Once he arrived on level ground, he followed the sole path towards the arch-shaped exit leading towards the outdoors. 

Roland shielded his gaze from the bright sun as he took his first uncertain steps into the outdoors. A canvas of green greeted him, with well-trimmed foliage and bushes decorating the side of the courtyard. A short grey wall wrapped around the entire place, and a large iron gate stood at the far end. 

Roland scanned the area and saw twice a dozen knights mounted on horses or standing valiantly with a helmet under one arm and a spear in the other. He scanned their disgruntled faces, mentally noting those who looked like he should avoid them.

He joined the knight against the courtyard, who nodded before gesturing him towards a beige and white-haired horse held by its reigns to one side. 

Before he moved, Roland's eyes scanned over the various weapons in the hands of these fellows. Iron spears, steel swords and tall shields. 

"H-hey, ahem. I…I would like a weapon as well." 

What he hadn't picked up on until after he spoke was how quiet the courtyard was. 

Roland stood awkwardly in silence while the iron-clad men watched him with petulant looks. A chorus of laughter rolled out of their dangerous faces a few seconds later. 

Roland's brow furrowed out of annoyance. He looked towards Aemon with a dark light glinting in his youthful gaze. 

The slender knight shook his head before addressing his concerns. 

"The young Lord shouldn't worry himself with that. We are more than enough to handle things today." 

Roland reluctantly made his way towards the horse with a single question sitting on his mind. 

'Do I even know how to ride one of these?' 

Much to his dismay, the small company didn't give him time to find out. He heard a horn squeal, followed quickly by a stern voice. 

"Gather yourselves, my comrades. It's time for the red hunt!"

The company bellowed into hearty roars. They would then begin their descent into the deeper woods, where the predators lived. Roland watched all of this from the uncomfortable seat of this anxious horse. He was told that these kinds of animals could feel tension from their rider. So all this bucking and thrashing around was amusingly to be expected.

A short while after their departure, Roland was trailing behind the bulk of the group. His backside, and his legs especially, were on fire. He was still fighting with the reigns of the horse that was practically driving him whether it chose. But it was calmer than it had been since he first sat on top of it.

Aemon occasionally rode beside him. But the conversation between them both was minimal. Roland was okay with that, considering he spent most of his time inwardly questioning his Artificial Intelligence about whatever he could understand about this new world. 

As far as the eyes could see, the patriarch of the House of Cloud, his grandfather, owned most of this land. But as mighty as he was, he was only a vassal to the actual King of the kingdom. Roland learned that girl Alyssa was also the niece of the said King, cementing why she was so bold. In this world, resources meant access to strength.

Time moved on.

Roland found the trick to slow his horse into a gentle trot.

He steered the harsh reigns painfully against his little hands and guided the hefty stead to the side of the large hill. 

A score of thick and full trees aligned down a wide, crumpled gold and brown road. The small company trotted along in a single file. The sun poured over the picturesque landscape, and Roland felt he could finally take in the beautiful splendour of this enchanting new world for the first time since his reincarnation. 

"Say, Mr err-Aeomon was it? Pardon me for forgetting, but what's the situation regarding this annual hunt. What are we actually hunting?" 

The slender knight slowed his pace. He twisted his impassive face towards him before his beady dark eyes scrutinized him thoughtfully for a short while and said. 

"The Red furred, fire-tailed wild boar. If you cared a little about your family heritage. You'd know it's a famous delicacy; the patriarch of the manner likes to serve his special guests during a banquet." 

Roland ignored the obvious rudeness and massaged his hairless chin in deep thought. 

"So my grandfather-eh! I mean, the patriarch," He laughed nervously.

"Hosting a banquet hmm. And who might this special guest be then, good sir?" Roland inquired with busying eyes. 

Aeomons impassive scowl beheld the boy again for some moments. Without saying anything else, he twisted his head away from him, gently kicked the side of his horse, and rode away to join the others. 

Roland wore a frown, watching the large back of Aeomons slowly trotting away. "Tsk! Everyone's got an attitude here." He said beneath his breath.

'But no matter,' Roland thought. There were plenty of benefits to being left alone. 

"Omega, I have another task for you to complete. And let's see, let's call it...Creature Index.'