Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Fifteen

Hours later, Logan stood with the Shadowcroft contingent in the middle of the Arena Suprema. All of the dungeons had been cleared. Now, all that remained was massive grassy field with a single gorgeous tree stretching gnarled fingers toward a sky full of stars. Magical light posts, arching over the field, glowed with a warm left.

Everyone else had already returned to their home realms, but the Shadowcroft dungeon cores were the last to leave, so they were alone on the expansive field. The tree was actually a branch of the Tree of Souls and double as a BYE portal, which would return them to Arborea when they were finally ready to pack it in. For the Semi-Final and Final rounds, the fields would be brimming with eager spectators and merchants would flock to the Arena Suprema, temporarily transforming it into a marketplace to rival even the Crossworld Bazaar.

Not that the advanced rounds would be held in the Arena Suprema proper. No, the massive stadium was where people would gather to watch the spectacle, which would take place on distant worlds, pre-chosen by the Shadowcroft Academy, since it was the host school.

But that was months away and Logan had more immediate concerns on his mind. Like what in the world Chadrigoth had been thinking…

Shadowcroft had been thoughtful and quiet after the abyss lord’s sweeping proclamation while Suresh the Magnificent tried in vain to get Chadrigoth to change his mind. The tournament judges were fine with Chadrigoth stepping aside—it was a foolish move, they said, but it didn’t break any rules. The games were voluntary, after all, and no one could be forced to compete against their will. Logan had the next highest score, and he was popular with both the general audience as well as certain gamblers. At two-to-one odds against him, Logan had doubled a lot of people’s money.

Suresh wouldn’t leave it alone. “Listen, Mr. Nobleblade, I was afraid you would do well, and you did, but little did I know you would just walk away from victory. Let me be clear. I don’t like you. If I’m being entirely transparent—which I never am—your dashing good looks and competency make me feel old and vaguely self-conscious about myself and my various, self-awarded titles.”

Huh, Logan thought. That really was rather introspective for the Rakshasa.

“With all of that said,” Suresh continued after taking a long breath, “you are our best bet to winning and the Shadowcroft Academy needs this win. Our reputation has been suffering because of certain professors and the leadership in general.”

Shadowcroft’s gemstone flashed in the belly of his trunk. “Oh, come now, Suresh, tell me more about which professors I should remove and how we might change our leadership?”

Suresh scowled and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. Nothing I haven’t said in private and in public a thousand times before. But you want us to win, don’t you, Skip? Don’t you?”

Shadowcroft smiled through his mossy beard. “Indeed, I would like us to win.” He nodded, beard waggling slowly from the motion. “At the same time, I agree with our beloved abyss lord. Despite what you may think, Suresh, Logan is our best bet. Mr. Nobleblade knows it, which is why he is stepping aside. Is that not right, Chadrigoth?”

“That’s what I think, headmaster. And let me be clear, Professor Suresh. This isn’t easy for me.” The big blue demon ignored both Lady Elesiel’s and Jimi Magmarty’s overexaggerated eye rolls.

Even Fractilla and the Ninth Circle seemed frustrated, but then, they were all tired and not thinking clearly. Though it had only been four days, it seemed like forever ago when they left Arborea for the Arena Suprema. The Crucible itself had also been extremely taxing—pushing all of the predicants to the edge of their capabilities and beyond.

Chadrigoth stood under the branches of the BYE portal looking pensive. “This goes against everything I learned growing up,” he said softly. “My family only values people who succeed. If you’re not the best, you’re the worst. If you’re not first, you’re last. That’s literally the credo of the Nobleblades.”

Logan thought that sounded suspiciously like he was quoting a certain Will Ferrell movie.

Marko, who was still picking Lolozi Webbs’s spiderwebs out of his fur, piped up. “Mr. Kobold only shows movies. And I can’t remember who teaches my alchemy class. I don’t think I’ve been making beer. So agree with Suresh the Handsome. Certain professors are a problem.”

Inga shushed him. “We have moved on Marko. Keep up.”

Chadrigoth approached Logan. When Logan had first started out at the Academy, he’d only come up to the blue demon’s waist. Logan was still shorter, so it wasn’t eye-to eye, but it wasn’t eye to nipple either, which was a win in his book.

Chadrigoth’s core gem sparkled under the starlight. The abyss lord was vibrating with power, and thin wisps of blue-white light seeped from his core, flowing down into what looked like a gentle mist. The abyss lord was holding something in his hand. There was power there as well.

Chadrigoth gazed down at Logan, his jaw clenched tight in determination. “We’ve had a rough go of it these couple years, but you taught me so much about myself. Stepping aside is hard for me, but the headmaster is right. You are our best shot because you and Inga can work together better than you and I can. You see, I get it now. For us misfit dungeon cores, for us nerdy, crazy guys, it’s not about the power we get for ourselves. It’s about protecting the Tree of Souls. And murder. Lots of murder. But mostly protecting the Tree.”

Logan thought about pointing out the fact that Chadrigoth wasn’t a misfit, or a nerdy guy, but decided to hold his tongue. This was a growing opportunity for the abyss lord and he didn’t want to ruin it. “Look Chadrigoth,” he said, “I’m not asking you to do this. I’m sad I lost, but I’ll be right in the front row cheering for you. You did amazing, and you’ve always been the strongest person in our year. And one of the strongest students in our school.”

“Yeah, I am awesome,” he said, nodding in agreement. “But I was never stronger than when you and I worked together to save the multiverse. Me and you, bro. Me and you. And I know in my heart that if you’d been allowed to run the Crucible with symbiotic bond, you would’ve crushed it. You scored a 96.95 percent. Inga scored a 92. Together, you would’ve score a 188.95—that’s twice as good as Wintersylver.”

Logan frowned. Chadrigoth was powerful, but maybe not the brightest crayon in the box, because that was definitely not how averages worked. Still, it was a nice sentiment.

“It needs to be you, bro. Here, I want to give you something—something that belong with a true champion like you.” They abyss lord opened his palm to reveal…Two old, worn sweatbands. The kind people at one point wore on their wrists, to mop up sweat. The sweatbands were a neon green and blue with very strong 80s vibes. “I got these from the Sacred Hollow last year, but I didn’t really want to use them because they looked so dorky. But they’re hella powerful and they’re yours now. You’re going to do great, Logan. I’m so glad you’re my friend. Maybe someday, we can be best friends for real.”

Tears sparkled in Chadrigoth’s eyes.

Lady Elesiel pretended like she was going to puke. “Those smell so bad!” she gagged. “And yeah, Chad, those sweatbands are the worst. If you ever wore them around me, I would’ve broken up with you immediately.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Jimi Magmarty huffed.

Tet sighed like only a cat girl can sigh. “Give it a rest, you two. Try not to be so stupidly shallow.”

Suresh threw his manicured paws above his head. “What is the meaning of all this? Why aren’t we just going home? I mean, it’s been decided right? Everyone’s ‘favorite fungaloid’”—he deliberately used air quotes—“is going to compete with the Astral Moth girl. Let’s just leave already so I can go home and drink away my very understandable disappointment.”

But that wasn’t going to be happening. Not in the way they thought.

Chadrigoth raised his hands. “No… we can’t leave yet. I can feel something changing in me. Standing this close to the Tree of Souls, I can see things so clearly now. I’ve been holding on to old ideas. My conditioning, my family, all of the pride and ego that I thought made me so strong. It’s the opposite. It’s the letting go. We surrender to win.”

Beads of bright light condensed on the leaves of the tree overhead. Logan’s breath caught at the beauty of it. Those beads of light rolled off the leaves and drifted down like fat flakes of snow right onto Chadrigoth. His core gem burned with power and the odd mist leaking out began to swirl around him in a whirlwind of magical light and preternatural fog, sweeping up the motes of energy drifting down from the canopy.

For second, Logan thought Chadrigoth was dying, but no, he was ascending.

The shell of blue-white light thickened around the abyss lord until he was lost completely. Then the rush of power guttered, faded, and died. All that power hardened into a blue-gray metal, until Chadrigoth was covered in a coating of hardened dark iron. It had a very Han Solo trapped in carbonite look.

It had happened so fast, that Logan wasn’t sure what to do. Lady Elesiel and Jimi Magmarty took several steps back. The Ninth Circle stared on in slack-jawed wonderment. Professor Suresh stood with his arms crossed, while Shadowcroft wiped at his own tears leaking down his wooden face.

“Revelation,” the headmaster whispered under his breath. “Such is the key to advancing beyond B-Class.”

Inga tentatively approached the massive Chadrigoth statue and traced her delicate fingers over the rough iron surface. “This is like when I created the chrysalis, so I could ascend to B-Class,” she said, voice low. “When he emerges, Chadrigoth is going to be A-Class.”

“Figures he’d wuss his way to A-Class,” Magmarty spat, blazing with lava heat. “My real question is how are we going to get him home? I’m not carrying him.”

Treacle didn’t spout any haiku. He just sucked on his jawbreaker and summoned forth a variety of Ugknot Calflings and a arachnoid-limbed walking table, not unlike the serving trays they used back in the dorm rooms. The contraption tilted itself, and the Calflings gently lowered the metal-bound demon onto the table. Without saying a word, Treacle escorted the table and his minions to the Tree of Souls, and they all vanished in the blink of an eye.

Logan bustled forward and quickly found himself back on Arborea, under another star-dappled night sky.

Logan touched Chadrigoth’s claws poking out of the iron. “Well, buddy, good luck. Levelling is never easy, but I think you’ll do it fine.”

Treacle’s jawbreaker clacked in his jaw. The minotaur smiled. “And I was just getting used to the big blue guy. But he’ll be okay. He’s got an inner strength to him—like a fine core of steel.” He paused, still slurping loudly at his jawbreaker, and stole a sidelong look at Logan. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad he stepped aside. You’re going to do well, and who knows, in the Finals, Marko and I just might join you and Inga. Wouldn’t that be a sight to see.”

The Semi-Finals seemed so far away, well after the Forevergreen Festival, which was basically Christmas in the Ashvattha Multiverse.

Shadowcroft appeared next, and he came over to Chadrigoth’s sarcophagus. “To become a Jade Leaf Cultivator, he’ll need plenty of Apothos. Best if we take him to the Akros Coliseum. I don’t think in his present state he’ll mind the elements one bit. And I know Yullis will enjoy having him there. It will motivate other students.”