Eliron and his group found their way to the central part of the camp, where a rather large, opulent tent stood tall.

It was not Alex’s personal tent, but a meeting room that they would be using throughout their journey. Whether it was council meetings or strategy meetings, everything would be held there.

Without knocking, Eliron pulled open the flap of the tent and walked inside the well lit space.

Swooosh!

Immediately, a thunderous gust of mana pounded into him, rushing past his body.

It was not an attack, it was simply the raw, tumultuous mana radiating from the seven individuals in the room.

’So these are the seven oracles...’

They were strong.

From what Eliron could see, every single mage among them had at least reached the early realms of Grand Mage, while the sword men were at the Commander stage.

Yet, there was another presence, one that superseded the rest.

A saint, a walking legend.

Eliron had not seen the person, but even with their mana suppressed, the mana in the air ministered to him. Since he absorbed the dryad’s core, things like figuring out power levels was as easy as breathing.

Their little greeting had been a way to probe him, to see how he reacted to the gust of mana. But save for Ariel, who showed mild discomfort, everyone else treated it like a passing breeze.

They had stayed around Eliron, whose bloodlust could paralyzed knights. After being exposed to it for so long, they had naturally grown a thick skin for intimidation.

A petite boy with pitch black hair, and a scar that looked like lightning, stared at him through narrow eyes.

He was sitting on a table which supported his weight with ease, his hands folded across his chest.

"How dare you walk into our gathering with such callous arrogance?" He asked. His voice was low, but there was a slight warning in it.

His eyes moved to Eliron’s ears, to all their ears, then he clicked his tongue.

"Is it that all soldiers in this camp are arrogant? Or do you elves lack proper upbringing?"

It was after he spoke that Eliron realised that although he was a child, he was far from one.

"I hope your time at the frontlines has not blurred your vision, or dulled your sense. I hear thunder magic had that effect on others." Eliron said smoothly, his voice icy on the edges.

One of the oracles seethed. Eliron could tell that he was holding himself from the exploding, perhaps out of respect for the petite man.

Did he have some sort of high rank among them?

The petite man stared at Eliron for sometime, not a flicker of emotion in his purple-ash eyes.

"Thunder magic?" His voice was tingled with amusement. "Don’t you mean lightning?"

Eliron stared at him for a little longer, his silence was the only answer he needed to give.

Most mages that got the lightning affinity often used lighting magic, that was why only very few people knew about its rare, alternate twin, Thunder magic.

While lightning magic focused on the power behind the strike, thunder focused on amplifying the sound to cause explosive damage.

Thunder magic was a form of sound magic...

But that was not what caused the man’s lips to curl up in an empty smile.

It was that Eliron did not just know about thunder magic, but that he had been able to tell it apart purely by the mana he was emanating.

"Most mages can’t even guess another mages affinity, yet from a mere glance, you figured me out. Hmmmm." He nodded with approval and jumped down the table, walking up to Eliron.

"Indra Stefan." He offered his hand, raising his gaze to meet Eliron’s, part of his eyes covered by his messy hair. "Vice commander of the Oracles."

Eliron took his hand in a firm handshake. "Eliron Tranquil, Lord of Elves, Honorary Grand Commander of the Donia Army—"

"And the Crimson Lord Of Embers." A feminine voice cut in, spitting out the name with mock amusement.

Something flickered in Eliron’s gaze. That title, strangely, after acquiring it, people had suddenly begun to call him that.

There were other nicknames that came up after the incident, but as though it was passively suggested in their minds, massaged into reality by some sort of divine will, it was the only one that stuck.

His eyes moved to the source of the voice, at the other side of the tent, was a half open flap that led to the deeper parts of the space.

Standing at the doorway was a woman, a broad smile on her face, as she held Alexander in a choke hood.

’Hmmm?’

Alex was tapping, and Ciera was practically pleading for her to let him go.

Eliron raised a brow as he focused on her. Mana was surging around her like a tempest, the particles so pure that they shone like flecks of gold.

’The sword saint...’

She finally let the prince go, and he gasped, his eyes red as he held her shoulders to remain upright.

His acting was near perfect.

He wheezed, then glared at the woman. "Eliron..." he squeeked. "Good to see you here, punctual as usual..." he gasped, then paused, taking a few seconds to catch his breath.

"Phew—!"

He pointed at the woman and said in an exasperated tone.

"This is Zora, the head of the seven oracles." He sighed, and the next part, he said as though he dreaded them. "As well as my brutish half sister."

’Half sister? Darius has been pretty busy.’ Eliron thought. ’So his daughter was a sword saint...’

Eliron had read about them, but it was the first time he was seeing one up close.

People that were just one step away from reaching the peak of swordsmanship, a rank held by people referred to as Demi Gods.

The rank of Venerable... 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Zora was built like a warrior. She was tall, impressively so. Eliron considered himself to be tall, and yet, she was tall enough to meet him eye to eye.

Her hair was wild, untamed, and came down like a veil of fire. The platinum blonde strands were just like Alex’s, only that her hair ended with highlights of red, and considering their ancestry, Eliron was pretty sure it wasn’t dyed.

She had a firm build and taught arms of solid muscle, there was no doubt that her cuirass was shielding a six pack from view.

And yet, she still had a feminine beauty about her, one that neither the years on the battlefield, nor the scar on her lower lip could taint.

The woman took one look at Eliron and her expression soured. She walked up to him, each step carrying more weight than they should have.

Most would have flinched in Eliron’s presence, and yet she stared into his eyes without a hint of fear. Just sheer arrogance.

"So this is the pretty boy you said would help us? The so-called Crimson Lord Of Embers?"

She spat on the floor at his feet.

"How utterly disappointing."

The atmosphere seemed to grow colder. Ash’s blade slipped out of his sheath with a quiet hiss. Jade’s eyes turned luminescent, a low growl escaping her throat.

Zora clicked her tongue, those electric blue eyes fixed on Eliron.

"I don’t know what tricks you used. But I can see it, you know?" Her voice came out low and bitter, filled with disappointment. "You aren’t even a saint yet..."

..

A/N

What do you guys think Eliron’s rank is?

Swordsman Rankings

Knight

Lieutenant

Minor commander

Commander

Swords Saint || Bow Master || Ace Berserker

Venerable

Each of them have three levels of mastery. (First stage, second stage, third stage.)

Then there are those like Sataen who have surpassed human rankings, people like Sataen.

I think I mentioned it before, but this is a reminder. :3