A Degenerate's Tale

A soothing sensation filled the hearts of everyone at the entrance of the Spirit King. The mere presence of the Spirit King was capable of strengthening the soul of those around him.

The Spirit King manifested in the form of golden, knightly armour. This piece of armour was built and shined to perfection. It radiated so brightly that one's eyes would water at the sight of it.

Then, he "spoke".

"Young elf. Your performance has pleased me. What a magnificent display of power, courage, and determination!"

There was no sound, but somehow, everyone was able to hear what he said. It was as if they didn't hear anything, but at the same time, they heard something. The Spirit King did not have a voice. He spoke directly to the soul.

"I thank His Majesty for the praise." Alea calmly answered.

In the arena, there was an incomparably picturesque scene that all participants would forever remember. On the ground was a pile of bloodied monsters spilling the ground with their pool of blood. On top of the monsters was the fairy-like elven princess. Her figure was straight and tall, like a ramrod. Above her, the Spirit King floated. His radiance was shining onto her, blessing her with his sheer majesty.

"For your performance, I award you with a Spirit Tear and a blessing. Until the end of your life, may your soul remain crystal clear. Your will, forever burning and your life, flourishing as meant to be."

"I, Alea Venroris, accepts the Spirit King's blessing and the Spirit Tear."

The Spirit King shone brightly, imparting Alea with his blessing. Alea felt like she was being reborn. She felt a comfort similar to a mother's warmth. All the pleasant memories she had played through her mind. By the time the blessing was over, Alea had realized the solution to many of her problems. Tears flowed down her face, and she smiled warmly.

"This is the Spirit Tear. Use it well."

Then, the Spirit King opened his gauntlets, and a small vial of a rainbow liquid flew out. Alea reached her hands forward and received the Spirit Tear.

The Spirit Tear, also known as the tear of the Spirit King. It was an item capable of miracles. It could force the body to go through a metamorphosis, prolonging lifespan, healing irrecoverable wounds. These were but a few things the Spirit Tear was capable of doing.

Why was the Spirit King capable of giving away such an item every ten years? The answer was simple. As the ruler of an entire world known as the Spirit World, his might was unfathomable.

With the small ritual done, the Spirit King flew to the very peak of the colosseum.

"Friends from the Middle World. The Spirit Festival begins now! So, my children, come forth and enjoy your time in this world."

The Spirit King's "voice" reverberated throughout the entire kingdom. More Spirit Mist leaked into the Middle World. This time, it was so dense that it was impossible to see more than one building ahead.

Silhouettes of various Mature Spirits could be seen. They were the children of the Spirit King.

Everywhere, one could hear the neighing of unicorns, the sound of hippogriff flapping their wings, and much more.

The spirits that one would commonly see were Immature Spirits without actual, tangible form. Spirits grow with exposure to the soul and time in the Middle World. Once they mature, they must return to the Spirit World and tend to their duties.

The Spirit Festival was one of the few times Mature Spirits could step into the Middle World.

Most importantly, Mature Spirits are contractable. Therefore, this event was the best time for practitioners of Spirit Magic to obtain a Contracted Spirit if they can prove themself.

By obtaining a Contracted Spirit, one would become a true practitioner of Spirit Magic. The number one weakness of Spirit Magic was that outside of the Elven Kingdom, Immature Spirits were far and few between. This meant that their Spirit Magic output would be severely lacking due to the lack of spirit to borrow powers from.

A Contracted Spirit would easily solve this problem. They could be summoned anywhere, and on top of that, one Mature Spirit was countless times stronger than an Immature Spirit. It was a massive boost in strength.

The Spirit Mist made it difficult for one to see where they were going. It was easy to get lost. This thinness of the barrier between two worlds meant that structures from the Spirit World would manifest in an imaginary state. This meant that Artasia had transformed into a different city. A city out of a fairy tale.

Alea made her way to the spectator area of her family. A smile bloomed on her face when she saw the first person to rush to her was Earl.

"Don't touch me. I'm all sticky and dirty." She softly said as she leaned on Earl's shoulder.

"It's just a different liquid than usual. Don't sweat it." Earl whispered jokingly. When he checked on her again, she had already fainted in his embrace.

"How is she?" The anxious Abelis hurriedly asked. The man was so restless while spectating that Saryll had to order him to sit still in his seat.

"She's just tired. I'll take care of her."

"Wait-"

Saryll sighed and said. "I'm sure Alea would appreciate it if we let Earl take care of her."

"If you say so, Your Majesty."

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