Chapter 1
Milo was lounging on a plush couch with his eyes closed when he heard footsteps approaching. He opened his eyes just in time to see Dave enter the room.
Dave had been his manager since the very beginning of his career. He was middle aged with a balding head, sharp eyes and a prodigious talent for logistics and organisation. The man always knew exactly where and when Milo needed to be at all times, a crucial ability for the manager of the world’s most famous athlete. As always Dave made a show of tapping the ancient timepiece on his wrist.
“The pre-fight show is nearly done. They''re expecting you on the stage in five minutes.”
Milo stood up and placed a hand on Dave’s shoulder.
“You sound nervous old man, has the realisation that you will shortly be the manager of the world champion finally gotten to you?”
Dave sighed.
“Please stop playing around Milo, this isn’t some off brand tournament, this is the final match of the world championship. And unless you’ve forgotten, Sebastian beat you the last time the two of you faced each other.”
Milo’s confident smile never wavered despite the reminder of what he considered the biggest failure of his career.
“I haven’t forgotten, but much has changed since last year’s championship. That oaf barely squeezed out a win, he got lucky, and we both know it, else why has he been systematically dodging every tournament I’ve been a part of this season? No… Sebastian is a man living on borrowed time and tonight his time has run out.”
A fond smile spread across Dave’s face.
“That confidence of yours really is infectious.”
Milo grinned and grabbed his manager by the shoulder before dragging him towards the tunnel which led up to the stadium.
“Let’s get going, shall we? It’s time to fulfil my destiny.”
Dave pulled himself loose and gave Milo a light push in the back. While Milo was perfectly fine entering the stadium shoulder to shoulder with his manager, Dave had other ideas, the man was shy in the extreme and was perfectly happy remaining behind the scenes. Just before Milo reached the end of the tunnel his manager said the same thing he always did.
“Go get them.”
Milo felt an overwhelming sense of calm and surety as he walked up the tunnel and entered the stadium.
The moment Milo exited the tunnel he was greeted by a deafening roar of cheers. His face drew into a grin and his hand went up in a wave as he took in the 80 000 men and women who had managed to secure one of the ridiculously overpriced tickets for the most anticipated fight of the year. The hype train had truly left the station and every media company on the planet was advertising this as the fight of the century. The stadium announcer introduced him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in welcoming tonight''s challenger, Milo Harper!”
Milo made a slow circuit of the stadium making sure to give his most rabid fans the attention they had come to expect from him. His talent for interacting with fans was by no means unique in this sport but none of the other crowd pleasers were anywhere near as highly ranked. After he finished his circuit, he headed towards the stage which served as the focal point of the stadium.
The stage was currently empty aside from two massive chairs that faced each other. Each chair was covered in sponsorship logos, both personal and corporate and Milo noted with satisfaction that the chair had already been adjusted to his physique. As far as chairs went it looked a lot like a gaming chair except for the chrome and plastic visor hanging from a hook on the headrest. A cluster of wires ran from the top of the visor and down into the stage where the true machinery which powered the visor was housed. He walked over and tapped the visor quickly confirming that it had already been calibrated for his user profile. With a nod and a smile, he sat down in the chair and placed the visor in his lap.
He had only been seated for a few seconds when the cameras turned in the direction of the tunnel opposite the one he himself had come out of. The two giant screens on either side of the stadium showed a broad-shouldered man that was slightly shorter than Milo. The man had blonde hair and fierce blue eyes and wore an impassive expression that bordered on outright unfriendliness. The stadium announcer’s voice came to life again as the man was greeted by muted applause.
“Ladies and gentlemen please join me in welcoming the current Arena legends grand champion, Sebastian Lundgren!”
Had the stadium been filled with neutral spectators rather than rabid enthusiast willing to pay a kidney for a ticket Sebastian title alone would’ve earned him thunderous applause. But if there was one thing the fans of this sport had learned throughout Sebastian’s long and storied career, it was that he despised press conferences and would do anything in his power to avoid interacting with fans. He was an executive’s worst nightmare, the champion who refused to play the media game. Milo had a sneaking suspicion that every single person who worked for Cybervision was hoping the brooding blonde would lose tonight.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
As the champion ascended the stage and took his seat opposite Milo, he couldn’t help but smile at his opponent.
“Ever the crowd favourite eh Sebastian?”
Normally he wouldn’t have risked throwing barbs at another contestant in a public setting but with the sound of 80 000 fans there was zero chance he’d be overheard. As usual Sebastian didn’t take the bait, the swede simply pulled down the virtual reality helmet above his chair and placed it on his head.
Milo watched Sebastian’s briefly tense before going completely limp. To the uninitiated the process of accessing the virtual reality headset developed by Cybervision almost looked like a person taking their last breath. In reality the visor was simply intercepting the electrical signals in the human brain to grant the wearer access while leaving the signals needed to sustain the physical body alone.
A few seconds after Sebastian put the helmet on a perfect virtual copy of his body appeared on the stadium screens. The swede was standing in the middle of a giant coliseum. Unlike the coliseum in Rome this virtual coliseum had no benches for spectators and was covered in sponsorship logos.
Milo pulled down his own helmet and felt his body go limp. His spatial awareness went completely haywire for a few seconds, by the time he managed to reorient himself he was inside the virtual coliseum in a perfect replica of his real body. He flexed his hands and looked across the sands at his opponent.
Sebastian was seemingly tapping at empty air with his index finger. After a few seconds, a set of heavy plate armour materialised out of thin air around his body. A few seconds later a dagger, sword and shield appeared in front of Sebastian and dropped to the sand.
The classic weapon combination the swede had chosen also played a factor in his unpopularity. While a fighting style based around a shield and a sword didn’t have to be boring it was by nature a defensive fighting style. And while a true master like Sebastian could pull off fancy moves and make it look good against a less skilled opponent, against someone like Milo he would always play the long game by trying to tire out his enemy and winning by capitalising on small mistakes. That was how he’d beaten Milo during the previous year’s championship, death by a hundred cuts, in the end Milo had bled out before he could deliver a decisive strike.
Milo pulled up the armour menu and selected a set of lightweight plate armour. The reason for his choice was simple, while lightweight plate armour couldn’t stop a heavy blow from a mace or two-handed weapons, it did an excellent job of providing just enough protection against slashing attacks delivered by a shortsword.
He switched to the weapons menu and quickly selected a claymore. The sword was huge and while it wouldn’t penetrate the thickest parts of Sebastian’s armour it could easily get through the weak spots that every armour no matter how thick shared. Milo looked up at the menu and saw that he had one point left to spend, just as expected. He scrolled away from the two-handed section until he came to the shield section and selected the item which formed the cornerstone of his plan.
The crowd gasped and Sebastian frowned as a kite shield dropped to the sand atop Milo’s claymore.
Now normally Milo would’ve spent his last weapon point on a dagger like Sebastian. Many top matches ended when the combatants became entangled and one of them pulled their dagger to finish the fight. Milo himself was well known for incorporating kicks, punches, dagger thrusts, and even MMA moves into his flashy fighting style, it made him unpredictable and unique. Over his long career around 10% of his match wins had come by dagger, so seeing him without one was not only strange, but borderline bizarre.
Milo picked up the shield and then strapped the claymore to his back. He looked across the field and saw that Sebastian was watching him like a hawk. Milo shrugged.
“What can I say, I’ve decided to pick up the shield.”
Sebastian frown deepened into a scowl, no doubt assuming that he was being mocked somehow. But as usual the Swede didn’t reply, instead the stadium speakers crackled to life with the announcer’s voice.
“Contestants, are you ready?”
They both answered in unison.
“Yes!”
“Both fighters are ready, the fight will begin in 3…2…1…FIGHT!”
The second the announcer finished speaking Milo was already closing the gap between him and his enemy. Sebastian lowered his stance and set himself, clearly expecting Milo to discard the shield and draw his claymore for a charging strike. Only the top of the blonde man’s face was visible from behind the massive shield, but Milo could still see his eyes widen as Milo slowed and twisted his entire body to throw his shield at Sebastian’s head. The swede ducked just in time for the shield clang harmlessly against the top rim of his own shield. Sebastian immediately popped back up to regain vision but by that time he had already fallen into Milo’s trap.
Milo roared as he charged shoulder first into the centre of Sebastian’s shield. Normally all a shoulder charge would’ve earned him would be a shield bash into his face and a sword in the back, but Sebastian had yet to firm up his stance after ducking to avoid the thrown shield. Sebastian grunted as his own shield was pushed into his face and he stumbled backwards to land on his ass. The swede recovered with frightening speed, and it was now a race between Milo’s draw speed and Sebastian’s well-honed instincts. Unfortunately for the swede Milo was faster. The claymore descended on Sebastian’s head, and it was only by some miracle that the Swedish champion managed to drop his shield and stop the killing blow with his wrist guard.
Sebastian grunted and winced as Milo’s sword lodged deep in his wrist bone, even with the pain settings on 5% getting your wrist chopped in half really hurt. Milo knew better than try to free his sword and immediately dropped it to launch a kick into Sebastian’s face. The swede dropped his sword and against managed to protect his face just in time. He then yanked Milo’s claymore free and drew his dagger with his remaining functional hand.
As expected of a true veteran Sebastian didn’t panic and took up a defensive stance above Milo’s claymore. Milo grinned at the swede and then bent down pick up his discarded shield and sword. In the stadium the crowd was roaring their approval at the fight still thinking that there was more fight to be had. Of course, Sebastian and Milo both knew this was over. The one-handed champion might have had a chance against a less skilled opponent, but against the number two ranked fighter in the world? no, all that remained was to try and salvage some dignity from this loss.
Milo made a show of circling his opponent while making a few experimental slashes to test his defences. Sebastian reacted perfectly and Milo decided to play along with Sebastian’s dream of an honourable defeat. He engaged the swede in a quick exchange which ended with Milo slamming the rim of his shield into Sebastian’s face. The swede was now bleeding from both his wrist and nose and Milo estimated he had around fifteen minutes left before the match was called due to blood loss. And while he was willing to extend the match for a few minutes there was no way he was going to wait fifteen minutes. He gave Sebastian a wink and then dropped his shield and launched himself at the champion. Although the short sword wasn’t his favourite weapon he was more than proficient with it and easily overcame Sebastian’s dagger. The exchange ended with Milo landing a clean cut on Sebastian’s good hand which immediately dropped the dagger and stopped functioning.
Sebastian snarled and tried to punch Milo would his maimed hand, but he simply ducked under the blow and then delivered a perfect thrust trough his visor. As soon as the blow landed the virtual environment disappeared and Milo felt his body regaining its senses. The crowd was going crazy as he removed the helmet and looked across at Sebastian’s chair. The swede had just removed his own helmet and was glaring at Milo with true hatred in his eyes. Sebastian stood up and then stormed off the stage completely ignoring the shouts of his manager and the officials from Cybervision who tried to stop him. The man would no doubt face a hefty fine for dodging the post-match festivities but Milo couldn’t truly blame him, he’d lost completely without even landing a single blow in return, a true humiliation.
The stadium speakers crackled back to life once again.
“Ladies and gentlemen join me in celebrating, the new grand champion of the Arena Legends world championship! Milo Harper!”
Milo had visualised this very moment hundreds of times ever since his first year as a pro. He was now the world champion of the most popular sport ever invented by humanity. He was figuratively speaking at the very top of mount Everest and he couldn’t help but ask himself the same question countless champions of countless sports before him had asked themselves.
“What the hell do I do now…”