She was tall, slender, sporting pale skin, pointed ears, hair of teal, and eyes of yellow. Those eyes widened as Iris bumped into her, accompanying a sound of clinking glass. Iris stepped back in instinct, but the newcomer darted down with impossible speed. She shot a thin arm out to the spilled bottle of orange-green liquid and flipped it over in one motion, spilling a few drops of potion onto the stone-tile ground.


    “Who else is up at this hour?” She exclaimed in surprise, her grip around the glass bottle tightening.


    “Me, that’s who” Iris answered unhelpfully. “First-day gladiator. And yourself?”


    “Oh, just an alchemist. Haven’t seen one of those before?”


    Iris had. Someone with her almost-human features on the other hand, she had only heard of. And felt ready to lend a lot more weight to diplomats who talked of the treefolk. “Not once in my life” Iris sarcastically played along. “Did I spill your best potion or something?”


    “Yes actually, you did.” The alchemist cut in. “I was making a delivery to a client. One of your opponents. I can convince him that I got distracted and reduced the batch too much, but you owe me for the inconvenience. Meet me after your placement match to discuss detail”


    “And if I refuse?”


    “I know what you look like” The alchemist threateningly hissed.


    Knowing how outclassed she was, Iris switched tactics. “That you do. The name’s Iris, and I know a mistake when I make one. I’ll help you with your potions when we’re in an actual state to make them, and when I’m not pulling an all-nighter.”


    “Iscelline Sagebrand. You’ll be able to look me up on that... screen of yours.”


    “Squire?” Iris offered, to a dismissive wave from Iscelline. “Whatever they call it now. I’ve seen it branded as everything under the sun.”


    Iris thought for a second, flowing back to an earlier point. “How much do you like that client you’re brewing for?”


    “Where are you going with this?" Iscelline asked snarkily. “I’m not going to just give-”


    “I’ll give you half my first batch of winnings for a potion.” Iris offered, eyes catching the low lights of the gladiator room-halls. “Anything that’ll help me place higher in the opening round.”


    The look of greed on the new gladiator’s eyes could only be matched by the look on the alchemist’s. She eyed her potential client up and down, running odds that Iris had no knowledge of- not yet.


    “You don’t even have a core yet? I could take the boring path and give you one of my core formation elixirs, but you look like the type to earn it yourself. I won’t give you a ladder up the wall, but I''ll... throw you a piton or two.”


    “Put out your hand.” Iscelline instructed. Iris did so, and Iscelline’s ring glowed. A smaller glass bottle popped out, this one far more labelled than anything Squire could throw at her.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    [Mana absorption potion (8 hours)] read the faded paper. Iris questioned how old it was, but this was her chance to get ahead. She stabbed a thumb into the cork and drank, the silver liquid slipping down her throat rather than lingering like the healing one. What lingered however was a burning, drilling sensation from her hands to her forearms, as if something was tightening the connection so hard it would break.


    “Good luck!” Iscelline called, but Iris was already off to her own room. She closed the door behind her, resumed a messy boxer’s stance, and hurled her hand forward, discharging a larger claw of spirit behind the swipe. With the ache remaining in one hand but gone from the other, Iris brought herself into a sharper, more refined stance. She jabbed a claw in a low, upward-facing strike, intended to dip below a ribcage and pierce the vitals beneath. Enough mana cleared from her hands to think, Iris looked over at her screen. The central bar was filling, slowly but noticeably, and the red sliver had grown to around half a finger’s width.


    “If I''m thinking of it that way...” Iris muttered. “Then I might as well build on it.”


    Iris leaned in closer to the stone tablet, and placed her finger near the bottom, lining it up as best she could with the slowly-filling bar. Hoping this wouldn’t give it a strange command, Iris placed her other finger just over the last, leaving a placeholder for the next. She counted as she placed, digit over digit, cresting the top of the bar at ten.


    With that information, Iris stepped back and waited in a fighting stance until she reached capacity. She slashed sideways in the air, neither part of a rapid combo nor an overhead skull-strike, and then measured the emptied space with her fingers. This claw-strike took a tenth of her reserve, ready to use again in the space of ten heartbeats. Wanting to delay the burning pain as long as she could, Iris alternated claw strikes. She paused between every set but worked up a rhythm, first of ten strikes, then eleven, then twelve. As she was watching the bar deplete halfway to thirteen, a box jumped into existence near the top of the screen.


    [Discovered unarmed weapon art: Mana claw]


    Iris stared at the notification, mystified. Impressed with herself and the flexibility of this new world she found herself in. The notification lingered for around three reads, then vanished to the side, only a red circle left behind. Iris tapped it, and saw a handful more of these notifications in a downward-scrolling log.


    [Mana Attraction: F -> E-]


    [Learned: Mana Infusion]


    [Learned: Flesh reinforcement]


    Iris scrolled back to her character sheet, looking over the changes made. Her skill list was more impressive; that is, somewhat less unimpressive


    -Skills-


    Flesh reinforcement: E-


    Mana Attraction: E


    Mana Claw: E


    Mana Infusion: E-


    Fire Projection: F+


    Draconic Theory: F-


    Internal Flame: F


    Mana absorption: F


    Mana Charring: F+


    She read. Barely half an hour into her elevated state, Iris gave more and more mana claws a try. With every forward-stepping set of slashes, Iris could feel more and more movement within her limbs. Slowly but surely, the mana was clearing her forearms, burning away at the dark gunk. She spent the next half-hour in studious practice, filling and emptying her mana like breathing lungs and driven ahead by whatever was above. Every few slashes, she felt herself able to add yet another to her growing chain of attacks. How much was due to greater skill efficiency was something she did not yet know, but the increased capacity would be helpful no matter what. A notification caught Iris’s attention, likely about mana claw rising in rank, but something else had greater pull.


    Iscelline threw herself through the door, almost ploughing into Iris. “He went nuts because his potion was empty, save me and we’ll discuss payment.”


    Iris looked to the alchemist, then the door. Able to hear the thumping of footsteps, she was not one to merely buckle.


    “We’ll talk then. Get under the bed.” Iris instructed, widening her stance in the narrow room.


    When the door opened with a bang, snarl, and glow of crimson eyes