The OP MC 5: God of Winning

by Logan Jacobs

  “Furraz!” Isik shouted, and a fireball the size of a basketball burst into existence in the palm of his hand.

  The watching nobility oohed and aahed as the fire mage juggled the ball of flames from hand to hand, and the orb reached higher and higher into the air with each pass.

  This was something I wanted to learn right then and there, so I pushed my chair away from the table and waved my hand over my head as I approached the fire mage.

  The flame in his hand snuffed out when he spotted me, and a confused frown wrinkled his brow.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked in his strangely-accented voice. “Why are you stopping me?”

  “Hey, there,” I greeted with a grin. “My name is Bash. I’m the Archduke and a bunch of other stuff, too. I stopped the presentation so you could show me how you summon such a big fireball. Once I learn how to do it, we can let the show continue.”

  “I-I-I do not understand…” Isik shook his tattooed head. “It has taken me my entire life to perfect my fire. To teach it would take years.”

  “I have the time, don’t worry. The next time I ask you, I’ll have already made progress.” I shrugged. “What’s the harm in trying?”

  “Attempting to cast spells beyond your ability is very dangerous,” Isik pointed out. “You could overextend yourself and cause yourself bodily harm.”

  “Try me.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shot him a confident smile.

  “What is the meaning of this interruption?” Viceroy demanded as he joined the two of us in the center of the room.

  “Cool it, flame hands,” I said as I raised my palms to the royal mage. “I’m just going to learn what Isik can do real quick, and then the show can continue.”

  “W-What?” Viceroy’s eyes widened, and he blinked at me for several moments. “You can’t do that.”

  “I’m the Archduke, and the God of Time,” I pointed out. “I don’t see the king jumping up to stop me, do you?”

  Viceroy shot a questioning glance at the king, but King Frederick merely shrugged.

  I waited patiently while the royal mage thought over his next words, and I flashed him a friendly smile when he turned back to me.

  “Very well, Your Grace,” Viceroy allowed with an incline of his head. “Do as you wish.”

  “Thank you.” I grinned. “I knew you’d come around soon enough.”

  “So, I teach you?” Isik asked with a confused expression.

  “Yep.” I nodded.

  Viceroy shook his head in wonder while he made his way back to the head table to sit with the king, which left me alone with the strong fire wielder in the center of the room. All eyes of the nobles were on us, and curious murmurs swept through the crowd, but I ignored all the attention as I bowed to Isik.

  “Alright, let’s start with the word,” Isik said with a decisive nod.

  “Furraz,” I said, and my hand began to burn.

  “You cannot say it without preparation!” Isik admonished, and he grabbed up my hands to inspect for damage. “It is a powerful spell. We could be here for years.”

  “Or seconds.” I shrugged. “Time is a meaningless concept, Isik.”

  “I am unfamiliar with the ways of gods.” Isik shook his head in confusion.

  “So, what should I do with my hands while I say the power word?” I pressed. “I don’t want my fingers to catch on fire.”

  “Here, I shall show you,” Isik said, and he flourished his hands through the motions slowly enough for me to follow. “Now, you try.”

  I repeated the motions with my own hands without using the power word, and this time I didn’t feel the heat in my digits, so I released the breath I’d been holding.

  “No, no, no,” Isik admonished with a frown, and he corrected the position of my hands. “Try again.”

  I repeated the process several times until the fire mage was satisfied with my motions, and then I attempted to pair the movements with the power word.

  “Furraz!” I said with emphasis on the ‘az’ as I went through the motions with my hands.

  My head was pierced with a stabbing pain, and my hands felt like they were soaked in gasoline then lit on fire, but no ball of flames appeared in my palm. I attempted the same process multiple times until I began to feel faint, and then I reset back to my save point.

  Chime.

  I watched the presentations for what felt like the millionth time at that point, but I was anxious to get to the fire wielder from the Kotar Desert, so I found myself tapping my foot incessantly beneath the table.

  Then Isik took the stage, and I practically hopped across the surface of the table as I rushed forward to learn some more. The fire wielder was impressed I already knew the word of power before he’d even presented any of his skills, but I still couldn’t summon a ball of flames like his.

  I used my basic fire spell once just to make sure my magical skills were working, and the small plume of flame was dwarfed now that I knew what kind of fire power was possible.

  Isik gave me pointers on my finger positioning, gawked at how much I already knew, and then watched while I failed over and over again. I continued until my head throbbed and my limbs ached, and then I reset.

  Chime.

  Chime.

  Chime.

  On the hundredth attempt, I finally managed to have a ball of flames puff into existence for a half second. While Isik scoffed at how brief the fire had lasted, I was proud of the progress I’d made already, so I continued my efforts until I could hold the ball of flames in my hands for three seconds.

  At that point, I felt dizzy again, and sweat rolled down my forehead, so I reset back to my save point once more. I’d lived countless lifetimes inside the one royal banquet event, and I knew I’d go through several more respawns before the night was actually over.

  Chime.

  The ball burned for five seconds before going out.

  Chime.

  I concentrated my willpower with every ounce of energy I had in me, and Isik shook his head in amazement at how strong and hot my ball of flames was, but I still wasn’t fully satisfied with the result. If I wanted one-hundred percent completion, then I had to have stronger fire power than the strongest mage in this world.

  Chime.

  I lasted a full minute, and I began to practice some of the juggling techniques I’d seen Isik use during the first run through. I tossed the ball higher and higher in the air until it nearly came crashing down on top of the Duchess of Mistvale’s table.

  Woops.

  Chime.

  Finally, I could hold the ball exactly where I wanted it, and I didn’t even notice the heat of the flames anymore.

  “You already know all my techniques.” Isik shook his head after I showed him my ball of flames.

  I’d just asked him to teach me for the thousandth time, but I had a feeling he would say something along those lines, so I quickly reset back to my save point once more.

  Chime.

  During this run through, I spent my time enjoying the show, and I especially appreciated the way Mahini’s face lit up when she saw mages from her homeland. After Isik came a snake conjurer, but I would need to have the tangible item the wizard used to summon the animal myself, and while I was tempted to demand it from the conjuring wizard from the Kotar Desert, I merely memorized the word of conjuration and let time continue. Then came a woman enchanter named Nixi who showed everyone some heat resistant gear and weapons equipped with fire spells.

  There were a few more presenters from the Kotar Desert, and then Viceroy returned to the center of the stage to announce the next magic user.

  “While we are often at odds with the warlords of the south,” the royal mage began in a loud voice. “The untamed Wild Lands host a variety of people, and not all of them are our enemies. Next we have shamans who have traveled from the furthest reaches of the Wild Lands to be here tonight, and they have come to show you magic that only they can perform.”

  We would see about that.
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  I crossed my arms over my chest as I watched the first presenter join Viceroy in the center of the room. The man looked like he came straight from an African tribe, and I wondered if he even spoke the same language being spoken. He had a thick piercing through his upper lip and carried a gnarled cane. Dark dreads ran down his back, and what looked like moss was covering his exposed skin in patches.

  “I, Gruff,” the shaman announced as he thumped his fist against his own chest. “Gruff bring jungle now.”

  Apparently, there was a language barrier, but I was pleased the shaman knew some words in the common tongue.

  The next thing I knew, however, there were vines sprouting from the ground at Gruff’s feet, and they curled upward toward the ceiling like dancers twirling to the sound of music.

  Well, that escalated quickly.

  I hadn’t even heard the shaman mutter a power word or make any movements with his staff. He was obviously a powerful magic wielder, and he had put it best when he said he was going to bring the jungle. Welcome to the Jungle, by Guns-N-Roses played in my mind as Gruff made the vines dance around the room, and a grin spread across my face.

  While I wasn’t sure if I could find a use for the spell, I wanted to learn it, but I didn’t want to have to sit through all the presentations again, so I made a new save point before I stood up from my chair.

  “Hi, Gruff.” I approached the jungle wielder with a friendly smile, and I spotted Viceroy’s frown in my peripheral vision. I had to hurry before the royal mage interrupted my request. “Show me how to bring the jungle?”

  “You shaman?” Gruff frowned as he scanned me up and down. “Look like noble.”

  “I’m both.” I grinned. “Plus some more things.”

  Gruff shook his head in confusion.

  “You… show… me,” I said in a painfully slow tone, and I pointed to the vines growing from the floor at our feet. They towered over my head as straight as an arrow, and they shivered slightly as the shaman stared blankly at me.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Viceroy’s voice was sharp in my ear. “Do you know his language?”

  “Do you?” I countered with a lifted eyebrow.

  “He speaks the Guht Guht tongue,” Viceroy explained. “It’s a tribal language. Each of the different clans have their own tongue, so it’s important to make sure you know which is which.”

  “How about you translate for me, then?” I asked with a waggle of my eyebrows. “It would be super helpful.”

  “What exactly do you need help translating?” Viceroy asked in a confused tone. “This is highly irregular, Your Grace.”

  “Just tell him what I say, and you’ll figure it out along the way.” I smirked.

  “Very well,” Viceroy sighed. “I suppose you are the Archduke as well as the God of Time.”

  He shot a questioning glance at the king, and as if to confirm his words, King Frederick nodded his consent to whatever was happening. I was pleasantly surprised by the level of trust the king placed in me at every opportunity, and I flashed him a grateful smile before I turned my attention back to the shaman.

  “Please teach me how to summon the jungle vines,” I said slowly so Viceroy could keep up.

  The royal mage spoke in a series of what sounded like clicking noises and grunts, but Gruff was nodding his head in understanding. Then he turned to me and shook his head.

  “No,” the shaman said simply.

  “Do you need me to translate that?” The corner of the royal mage’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile.

  “Nah, I got it,” I chuckled. “Ask him why not.”

  Viceroy sighed loudly, but he didn’t argue, and he turned to Gruff the shaman again. The two of them conferred with each other in the shaman’s tongue, and then the royal mage sighed again.

  “He says you must take a blood oath and join his clan first.” Viceroy patted me on the shoulder sympathetically. “It was worth the try, though. I appreciate a thirst for knowledge in the youth.”

  “Who said I was young?” I lifted my eyebrow. “And who said I wasn’t going to take his oath so I can learn that spell?”

  “You can’t be serious,” Viceroy gasped. “You would be agreeing to the terms of the tribe Gruff belongs to.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinions, just your translations,” I said in a stern voice. “What if I want to join the Guht Guht clan?”

  “But you are the Archduke to his majesty,” Viceroy argued. “It would be a conflict of interest.”

  I had every intention of resetting back to my save point before I said anything to the shaman anyway, but there was no way I could explain that to the royal mage.

  “Just trust me, Viceroy,” I insisted.

  “Very well.” The royal mage let out another dramatic sigh, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  Wizards and their theatrics.

  Viceroy turned to Gruff, and they exchanged a few heated words in the shaman’s tongue before the jungle wielder nodded his reluctant consent. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and I gave the shaman a wide smile.

  “Thank you, Gruff.” I reached out my hand to shake his, but he merely blinked at it in confusion. After he left me hanging for several moments, I let my hand fall back to my side.

  “You join Guht clan?” Gruff asked, and a spark of hope flashed in his eyes.

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “This time, anyway.”

  Gruff seemed satisfied with my answer, and he nodded to the royal mage.

  “This is highly unusual,” Viceroy complained under his breath, and then he cleared his throat. “Alright. Repeat after me, Your Grace.”

  “Ready when you are.” I nodded.

  Gruff began to speak in his native tongue, and the royal mage listened for a moment before he began to translate.

  “I promise to fight for Guht clan, eat with Guht clan, and bathe in the blood of the enemies of Guht clan every night.” Viceroy’s face paled as the words left his lips, and I wondered briefly if the recuperating wizard was truly up for the night’s duties.

  I repeated everything he said perfectly, and I even managed to keep a straight face the entire time. When the words were finished, Gruff spat into his hand and offered it to me palm up.

  Oh, now he wanted to shake.

  I shook my head in amusement as I spat into my own hand, and then I squished it down onto the shaman’s without hesitation. I remembered the spit promise from when I was a kid, so this was nothing new to me.

  After the ritual was completed, Gruff looked me up and down before he nodded in approval.

  “You make strong shaman,” he observed. “Now learn jungle magic.”

  “Yes, please,” I replied with an enthusiastic tone.

  It turned out there was no word of power for summoning the jungle vines, but that wasn’t surprising considering the language difference. Gruff had me making a grunting noise I assumed was a word in his tongue, so I asked Viceroy to translate.

  “There is no word for it in our language,” the royal mage explained. “It is specific to the species of vine, and it only grows deep in the south.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I sighed.

  I practiced summoning the vines for what felt like hours, but I made little progress. By the time I was running out of steam, the gathered nobles were beginning to loudly complain about how boring the source of entertainment was. The wizards still waiting to perform also moved anxiously about their line, and many shot me hot glares.

  I could feel the heat of all the eyes staring at me, but I ignored them so I could focus on learning the new magic. It was definitely addicting.

  When I’d given it all I could give, I reset back to my save point to try again.

  Chime.

  Chime.

  Chime.

  I went through the magic show portion of the banquet so many times I started to think nothing else existed outside of this one night. Finally, I managed to get a small sprout to spring u
p from the floorboards, and I whooped with joy.

  Using the wild magic of the south was a little bit more complicated than the basic spells I’d learned so far, and I immediately felt a connection to the tiny plant I’d conjured. I wanted to take care of it, nurture it, and help it grow big and strong. Something in me just knew my vines would not reach the same level as the shaman’s had unless I took the time to bond with my vines.

  When I was satisfied with the result of my endeavor, I reset for a final time and let the show continue. After Gruff’s dancing vines came a trio of conjurers who summoned jungle cats, wild boars, and lemurs to the throne room, and the animals were met with lots of excited applause.

  I supposed people liked cute things, and it was as simple as that.

  After the animal conjurers came some earth wielders who could manipulate the earth and other natural things. They made dirt dance around in different designs and shot mud bullets at each other’s earthen shields. It was fun to watch, and I rubbed my hands together with excitement as I prepared to spam my respawns and learn it all.

  I lost track of how many times I had reset, and I learned everything I could in the span of one night. Several times I took control over the banquet, but the king never counteracted me. The ruler of Sorreyal was letting me do whatever I wanted without even lifting a finger against me, and I had to wonder what his ultimate intentions were.

  Leave it to the God of Time to not trust anyone, even the king himself.

  I learned how to fling earthen bullets, how to make a dirt wall build itself, and how to manipulate the ground itself before I finally allowed time to continue onward.

  Next came the priests from the Zaborial Isles, and the green-haired men and women wore teal robes that hung just below their knees. They were sailors of the vast ocean that made up one boundary of Sorreyal, and their people were merchants who traveled between kingdoms, so I was eager to learn more about them. They were water and air wielders, but among the priests was a man who could conjure a hawk. The beast flew above the heads of the nobles, and it let out a surprisingly realistic screech before it landed upon the priest’s shoulder.