Awakened: SSS Ranked Soul king-Chapter 48: Flight
"Uhh, my name is Guilliman," shaking his head, Guilliman said. Now he understood why everyone was scared of this Old Devil. Aside from his name, it seemed like the old man was a handful.
"Hmm, if you say so… Willy boy, what do you mean by apprentice? You know my standards," the old sneered, then panned his head to the middle-aged man.
He would not teach anyone with a lackluster affinity; he had tried and failed several times, and he wasn’t going to do it again.
"Ahh? Don’t tell me you’ve upped your standards, old man! Not even someone with an Arcane can satisfy you? Well, I guess we should be going, kid…" Quickly grabbing Guilliman by the arm, the middle-aged man named Willy went straight for the door, attempting to leave…
—"Wait, did you say an Arcane affinity?!!" The old devil’s voice sounded with a look of shock and panic on his face.
2 whole years—that was the last time he saw someone with an Arcane affinity; even then, it was basically nonexistent since it was so low, but he was happy to accept this kind of apprentice.
Now another had appeared before him. There was no way in hell he would let him go over something so random as funding.
"Hm? Are you sure, old man? From what I hear, he’s already a pretty good slayer; I know you don’t like those either…" the middle-aged man smirked, looking at the old devil from the corner of his eye.
That old guy needed to be taught a lesson in manners.
"Slayer?… doesn’t matter, leave him. I’m sure I can convince him to abandon that," the old gritted his teeth and said, "these little shits were trying to use his desperation against him."
"Oh well, since you’re this desperate I’ll leave him be," smiling coyly while facing the door, the middle-aged man Willy turned to Guilliman and said one more time.
"Good luck," he then let go of him and walked out the door, leaving Guilliman and the old man alone in his office.
"Ahhh, what have I gotten myself into…" Guilliman turned to the old man and smiled; they didn’t even ask him if he still wanted to learn, they just bargained him away.
"Hmm," the old devil broke into a smile, then from out of nowhere levitated above his chair and flew towards Guilliman.
Taken aback by the sudden flight of the old devil, Guilliman flinched, attempting to defend himself. But even before he could put his guard up, the old man was upon him, checking him out.
"Scrunny, but with tough bones… hmmm, you really are a combat slayer," the man mused, examining Guilliman from head to toe. Reaching forward, he grabbed his hand and pressed it on his palm.
"Ouuu, that’s the right bone structure. Hey, have you ever inscribed?" The old devil’s eyes glowed as he asked.
This toughness of his palm and the flexibility of his hand bone structure was an indication—or result—of inscription work, depending on the context. Guilliman didn’t look like an inscriber, however.
"Uhh, no?" Guilliman rightly answered; he didn’t even know what this inscription thing was, let alone participating in it.
"Ahh, too bad," feeling a bit disappointed, he shook his head and continued with a question. "What do you know about inscriptions, though, so I know where to start from?"
"I don’t know what that is, old man," Guilliman shook his head, confusion-riddled on his face. The old man spoke about it like it was some common knowledge everyone should know of.
Of course, he spoke with reason because 90% of slayers did know what inscriptions were; Guilliman was just one of the unique few who didn’t get the chance to enter a training center, as such, he was oblivious.
However, instead of the old man getting angry or disappointed by his lack of knowledge, the old man seemed to be happy.
"Great, they teach rubbish in those training centers anyway… come," floating slightly away, the old man beckoned Guilliman forward and asked him to sit. Then, with his hands behind his back, he floated towards a shelf.
"This is one… two," ruffling through a bunch of books and manuals, the old man pulled out several books and threw them on his desk.
They read: History of the Blacksmith, Calligraphically Index, Formal Master of Heaven
Funny enough, all these books seemed to have one author.
By the prestigious Old Devil.
"Go through these three first…," the old man said, seated on the chair behind the desk, looking at Guilliman with full focus.
"Wait, what? You can’t just give me books to read…I don’t even know what I’m looking for, let alone what I’m doing," Guilliman protested.
Clearly this Arcane thing was important, but he didn’t even know what it was or why he needed to learn inscriptions. It was all black, and now they were history books in front of him?
It was too much to swallow without questioning; he wasn’t a drone.
"Sigh, I would… but it’s better you come to your own conclusions… however, if you’re able to grasp what I’m teaching you… you’ll be able to do this," the old man shook his head, then started to float up into the air.
"Flight?" Guilliman was taken aback; he thought the old man was using some sort of special beast Echo just now, but was he insinuating that he was flying without the help of a soul Echo? That was maddening!!
"Not just that… unless you want me to destroy this whole complex, we should limit it to just this," the old devil wanted to entice Guilliman, but with what he could do? This entire place would be razed to the ground.
"Ahh, you got me at the flying part, to be honest," shaking his head, Guilliman smiled bitterly and picked up one of the books, burying himself in it.
For the words that the old man said, which were obviously insane… flight was something he wanted really badly.
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To reach that place where his sister was trapped, that place above the clouds.