《Mage Mangler -(Crucible of Ascension)》 Chapter 1 Patience is a virtue ¨C William Langland. Not that Sergeant Pierce cared. Mad grin stretched over his face, he fondled his rifle like a loved one as we bounced down the dust-choked road. ¡°Whaddya think it is, Cap¡¯n? I reckon Egyptians. The Ancient ones, though. Animal heads and all that stuff.¡± Used to his constant twitter of bullshit, Captain Brooks didn¡¯t even blink at the question, which left Private Morris to offer a measured reply. ¡°We¡¯re in the Middle East, you twat. How¡¯s it gonna be Egyptians?¡± He hawked and spat through the gap in the canvas cover, then flashed a grin of his own. ¡°And it¡¯s obviously gonna be aliens. Only thing that makes any sense.¡± ¡°Sense?¡± Pierce laughed. ¡°It¡¯s hotter than Satan¡¯s arsehole after a chicken Phaal. Why would an alien want to come to this shithole?¡± Morris tapped his temple like he was privy to some great secret. ¡°Experiments.¡± Pierce cracked his neck, then took one hand off his rifle to scratch at his crotch. ¡°Whatever it is, I¡¯m just ready to kill something. Two months of base life with my dick in my hand? I¡¯m losing it.¡± This was my first tour, my first real action, and I was regretting joining up purely on the basis of having to deal with these two idiots. I shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench, which was a huge mistake. The movement put me in Pierce¡¯s sights, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. ¡°You looking forward to this, Rocky? Don¡¯t forget to use your gun, eh? Fists won¡¯t do shit out here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try to remember,¡± I replied as deadpan as I could, hoping my short answer would put an end to it. ¡°Dunno why you¡¯re out here anyways. Shoulda stuck with the boxing. By all accounts, you¡¯re as good as your brother, just without the crazy.¡± The mention of my brother landed like a sucker-punch. Unexpected and sickening. A small part of me wanted to dive over the truck and pummel him. Granted, he was a mean-looking son-of-a-bitch, heavy shouldered, ham-fisted, with a scar down his jaw that completed the fearsome look. None of that bothered me, but I smothered the whisper of violence all the same and turned away to stare out across the barren desert. Pearce laughed like he¡¯d told a joke, and Morris joined in, the pair of them braying like donkeys. I didn¡¯t need this shit, but I expected it. Earl¡¯s shadow followed me everywhere. The captain¡¯s radio crackled to life with orders. The words cut through the tense laughter. ¡°ETA to drop-off: one minute. Four more squads en route to assist. ¡°Your mission is to facilitate extraction with covering fire only. Do not get pinned down. Repeat, do not get pinned down. A secondary defensive perimeter is being set up one mile out. If things get too hot, retreat and reform there. Over.¡± Brooks grunted, then thumbed the radio button with the kind of disgust reserved for a vending machine that swallows your money without giving up the goods. ¡°Casualties so far? Over.¡± There was a pause. It was hard to tell over the radio in the back of a noisy truck, but I had the sense that the speaker was building up to delivering bad news. ¡°Currently, all thirty scientists at the site were killed outright when the Anomaly opened. Eighteen soldiers are down. Condition unknown. A further eleven have been captured.¡± I didn¡¯t think Brooks¡¯ brow could furrow any deeper until that moment. ¡°Anomaly?¡± he snapped. ¡°What the hell are we facing?¡± ¡°Unclear, Captain. The enemy are using some kind of energy weapon that we will need to study, but¡­ for now, focus on defense and extraction. Over.¡± With a grimace, he shoved the radio back into its pouch and scanned the truck. The silence that followed was heavy. ¡°You all heard that bullshit. None of it matters. All that matters is that you stay calm and follow orders.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He jabbed a finger at me and then two others in quick succession. ¡°Henshaw, Morris, Forta¡ªyou¡¯re Alpha team. You go first. Get to cover when we arrive. We¡¯ll cover you from the truck. Pierce, Stanton, Barnes¡ªyou¡¯re Beta. Once they¡¯re in position, you move.¡± It was as if I was listening from a great distance. All I could think about was how much I needed to piss and how much of a bad idea joining the army was. The truck swerved hard, jolting me from my own thoughts. The moment had come. Brooks tore the canvas open and barked out like a neglected bullmastiff, ¡°GO, GO, GO!¡± My mind blanked, but my legs moved of their own volition. Thank god they knew what they were doing as they carried me over the edge and set off running at full speed toward the ruins ahead. Sand-colored walls were barely visible against the backdrop of endless desert. I hit the first low wall hard, beating Morris and Forta by a few seconds. ¡°Let¡¯s hope you shoot as well as you run,¡± Morris said, breath ragged, dropping to a knee and raising his rifle. ¡°No one¡¯s fired on us,¡± Forta added, mirroring the position Morris took on my other side. I clambered up and raised my rifle just in time to welcome the rest of our squad. As they settled against the wall to our right, all I could hear was distant rifle fire and Pierce¡¯s damn voice. ¡°Anyone spot any Ancient Egyptians yet?¡± Captain Brooks¡¯ gravelly voice followed as he arrived at the wall, dropping into position with the grace of an old predator. ¡°We¡¯re still three hundred yards out from the site.¡± He pointed over to where the sparse ruins increased in height and number. ¡°Alpha team, push to the next section. Sixty yards. Go.¡± This time, I waited a beat for Morris and Forta to get moving before I followed, matching their pace. Perspective is a funny thing. Exposed, and with the dusty ground seeming to suck at every step like quick sand, that sixty-yard dash felt like one of the longest runs I¡¯d ever done. Sweat streamed from under my helmet, stinging my eyes. It was all I could do just to keep them open as I scanned for danger, but a sudden gust of hot wind swept grit up into our faces, and my resolve broke as I blinked to clear them. When my vision returned, panic struck. Figures were up ahead. On instinct, I dove to my left, screaming, ¡°Get d¡ª!¡± My warning to the others was cut short as I thumped into the rocky ground. ¡°Down!¡± I screamed again, before rolling to a pile of rubble for some meagre cover. Gunfire from behind us told Forta and Moris what I couldn¡¯t: the enemy was here. Kicking at the ground, I scrambled into a better position, lining up my rifle to join the fight. Finger on trigger, I froze for a moment as I looked down the sight. Like some high-budget, fantasy horror movie come to life, two hulking, black-armored figures with horned helmets trudged toward us. Both carried shields, one brandished a huge sword, the other a spiked mace. Their armor gleamed like crude oil, impossibly dark yet catching the firelight of exploding rounds. They moved with an unflinching, remorseless calm that made my blood run cold. ¡°It¡¯s not fucking hurting them!¡± Forta shouted. He was only a few feet ahead of me, but his voice was barely audible through the sounds of chaos. For some reason, his words prompted me to action, and I finally fired. My chest tightened in despair as my bullets sparked uselessly off their shields. These definitely weren¡¯t cosplayers. This wasn¡¯t an elaborate nightmare. This was real, and something was very wrong. The air grew heavier with every step they took, as if the world itself was caving in around them. I forced myself to reload, hands trembling, yet I still risked a glance back to the rest of our team. Relief surged like that first swallow of cold beer after a long, hot day. The captain was waving like a madman, beckoning us back. ¡°We¡¯re retreating!¡± I shouted, motioning to Forta and Morris. Forta wasted no time in shuffling back toward me, but Morris was still firing wildly. Forta shouted after him, but the words couldn¡¯t reach. I sure as shit wasn¡¯t going closer to let him know, so I fired a shot just past his leg and into the ground in front of him. His head snapped back toward me, eyes wide with shock and anger. Finally, he registered the retreat and scurried back to our position. The moment he reached us, we all set off running, the rest of our squad an oasis in this hellhole. With half the distance covered, a heavy thud to my right caused the ground to tremble. Barely keeping my footing, I still managed a glance over my shoulder, and immediately wished I hadn¡¯t. Morris didn¡¯t scream. Didn¡¯t even register fear. In a single, sickeningly precise stroke of a giant sword, his head simply left his shoulders to spin off in a twirling spray of crimson. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of the impossible. How had that thing covered the distance to us so fast? How was it so big? How¡­ My instincts screamed, and once again, I dove to the side. Better to move and look an idiot than stay still and end up cut in half. It was the right decision. The massive blade thunked into the ground where I¡¯d just been, sending up a plume of dirt rather than my blood. A close-up look of the monster didn¡¯t improve my opinion. Its agility was unreal, its armor silent and offered no hindrance to its speed or movement. I rolled again, barely dodging the spiked boot that followed up its attack, but not the painful truth that Forta was nothing more than a bloody stain in the sand. The mace wielder that crushed him was already heading toward the rest of our squad at speed. And selfish though it may be, my first thought was that it was one less problem for me to deal with. My second thought was to move and keep moving. Every step my attacker took shook the earth. Every swing of its sword whistled through the air with merciless precision and a promise of death. To stop moving was to die. Chapter 2 - Adam Towering and Faceless, the figure stalked me. Its movements were smooth, calm, deliberate¡ªlike a father indulging a child in a game he could end at any moment. With some ungainly thrashing and rolling on the ground, I managed to make a little space to get back to my feet. Once there, I raised my rifle and fired again. I squeezed that damn trigger and didn¡¯t let go until every last bit of hot metal had smashed into my enemy. It may have slowed its inexorable approach slightly, but that was almost definitely wishful thinking on my part. As the rifle ran dry, I considered reloading, then in a moment of clarity, saw it for what it was: a crutch, a false promise of safety. With a desperate growl, I hurled the rifle at the monster and continued my retreat. The figure¡¯s head tilted slightly. I couldn¡¯t read what it thought, but whatever passed through its mind was not pity. With a burst of speed, it closed the distance again, broad blade swinging in a wide arc. I threw myself backward, rolling to my feet, somehow still alive. In the move, I noted how much easier it had been to evade without the rifle, and how much the other gear I was laden with was slowing me down. It might not be by much, but I needed every advantage, so I began stripping everything off. To my surprise, the black-armored monster stopped to watch me. That curious tilt of its head had returned as I continued my backward scuttle. I prepared for another explosive attack, and dropped to a low fighting stance, hands spread wide, palms open. From that position, I knew I could move in any direction in an instant. A deep rumbling sound came from the armored titan. Was that laughter? For the first time, I wondered what was underneath all that armor. It was massive, of that there was no doubt. Standing around eight feet tall, even if it wasn¡¯t bullet proof, it was still far too big for me to seriously consider fighting hand to hand. In the lull, I looked past it to see how my squad were faring. What I saw drained the last of my hope. They were all dead. Scattered like broken dolls across a future serial killer¡¯s bedroom. My options had just dropped from one to none. I was going to die here. I eyed the horror in front of me again. Its oppressive aura and supreme confidence sent fear clawing up my throat. I thought of my brother again in that moment. I hated that my last thoughts on this Earth would be about that bastard, but if he had taught me one thing, it was how to take a beating and keep going. Even when the opponent was bigger, stronger, and damn near impossible to beat... Especially then. I took a breath and then beckoned it forward to fight. At that gesture, the unthinkable happened. It dropped both shield and sword, and crouched, adopting a stance eerily similar to mine. My muscles tightened just in time as the armored titan darted toward me. A front kick came from nowhere, and while I tried to move, it caught my shoulder. Pain exploded through my left side as I pirouetted through the air and smashed into the ground. Rolling with the momentum, I bit back a scream each time I rolled over the injured arm. I dragged myself back to my feet, tenderly testing my arm. It was bad but still useable if I didn¡¯t mind lancing pain with every movement. The titan rumbled again as it resumed the stance. I followed suit this time, trying to control my ragged breathing. Come on, Adam. Focus! Bigger opponent. What do we do? To my surprise an answer came like a shot of adrenaline: Get the fucker¡¯s helmet off. Let¡¯s see how tough it is without that. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. It came again, front kick to lead. Predictable, I noted as I dodged. It followed up with an open-handed strike from its gauntleted hand. Under normal circumstances, I¡¯d have parried and countered. But this wasn¡¯t normal and I wasn¡¯t parrying shit from this thing. The only chance I had was to redirect its power. When the strike came, I stepped back and snatched the ridge of its vambrace, using it to shove myself clear. It worked. The creature snarled, furious at the miss, and swung a wrecking-ball backhand at my head. Smart move ¡ª if I hadn¡¯t kept hold of its vambrace. I let myself go limp with the movement. Tossed like a rag-doll, the sudden jerk tore my already damaged shoulder from the socket. Like a bolt of lightning, pain lanced through my body from neck to waist. It was a desperate gamble, yet still I held on, and at the peak of its backhand, the momentum sent me airborne for a moment. I let go when I was certain my trajectory would land me close to its huge back. Oof! The wind left my lungs as I crashed into its shoulder and started to fall. At a fever pitch of desperation, my one groping hand searched for a hold. If it didn¡¯t find one, this was over before it started. The titan was turning, spinning to get at me as I fell. Elation! My hand wrapped around a ridge on its pauldron. I now spun with it. A few more seconds of life guaranteed. The moment my foot found purchase in the narrow of its waist, I propelled myself higher. My left arm hung limp and useless, but my right hand came free as I shot up, fingers clawing at the rim of the bastard¡¯s helmet and snagging a hold. It thrashed wildly, a black tornado of fury. But like that spot on your back that you can¡¯t itch, its armor restricted its movement enough to leave me out of range of its grasping hands. Wedging my foot in the crease of his back, I wrenched at the helm. It creaked and lifted a little, showing a thin sliver of pale, white skin underneath. I was so close. In that moment, I knew I had a chance. Then the air left my lungs in a single, crushing instant. I looked down to see a massive hand clamped around me, squeezing like a vise. I couldn¡¯t understand how it had managed to reach me. That question was answered as I was ripped from the sworn bearer¡¯s back, helmet still gripped in my hand. The hand belonged to the mace wielder. I was done. The only solace was that I got to see the look of horror on my opponent¡¯s surprisingly human face before I died. It was definitely some kind of alien, with light gray, almost white skin that gradually darkened to almost black where its chin split into two short spikes. Their fathomless eyes, black like the pits of hell, would have been terrifying if not for the utter bewilderment in them. Death might be imminent, but I relished that small, defiant victory. The mace wielder barked at the swordsman in a sharp, alien language. Their voice was deep but clear. The two of them exchanged words before the swordsman retrieved its fallen helmet, glaring at me silently before sliding it back into place. Before I could process my demise, I was dangling upside down, held by the waist and swinging gently in the iron grip of the mace wielder. They strode off with chilling purpose. Blood rushed to my head as I swayed back and forth, the ache in my dislocated arm a dull throb compared to the cold dread settling in my gut. I also learned on that pendulum of defeat that not all my squad had died. The limp form of Sergeant Pierce gripped by the ankle with my captors other hand came periodically into view. He was being dragged over the rough ground, groaning every time his head bounced over a rock. Why are we still alive? With every step forward, the crumbling structures of ruins became larger and more intricate, and that question burned deeper into my mind. What do they want with us? The ruins stopped abruptly to make way for an open area. Circular in shape like an ancient arena, every inch was painted with fresh blood and death. The bodies of soldiers and scientists formed a grotesque carpet only inches from where my head swayed. My stomach turned at the sight, but it wasn¡¯t the corpses that truly stole my attention¡ªit was the anomaly in the center. A swirling disk of brilliant blue light cast eerie shadows over the chaos. Its surface pulsed, alive with a strange energy that tugged at something deep within me as we moved toward it. More of the guttural language was barked out as armored figures across the area spoke to each other. Many of them carried injured soldiers to a guarded enclosure next to the Anomaly, while others strode away with grim purpose, bloodied weapons in hand. I expected to end up in that pen, but my own captor took us directly to the anomaly and the guards waiting to either side of it. An argument broke out immediately. Harsh words, clipped and utterly indecipherable, but there was no doubt that my captor held power, and an agreement was reached. The ankle of the bloody and battered Pierce was dropped carelessly to the ground, and before I could process what was happening, I was gripped tighter and carried through the anomaly. Chapter 3 Adam My stomach lurched as we passed through the anomaly. It was like driving over a hump in the road at full speed, then slamming the brakes the moment your tires hit the ground again. Queasy and disoriented, I looked up to take in my surroundings. We¡¯d landed in a hall of cold, gray stone where a dozen captured soldiers sat bound to wooden benches. Their hollow eyes barely registered our arrival, and the small surge of hope I experienced died as swiftly as it came. They were utterly defeated, and after what I¡¯d just witnessed, I couldn¡¯t blame them. As I hung from my captors grip, as helpless as a newborn pup and with no idea where we were, or why, I knew I couldn¡¯t just give up. I definitely didn¡¯t want to go any further away from this portal, so ever so slowly, I brought my legs up to my chest and waited until my captor moved again. The moment he stepped forward, I kicked out at his trailing leg like a coiled spring. It struck just above his ankle, a perfect blow that would stagger a stampeding horse. If it worked, I could dart back through the portal, duck and weave past the thirty super-powered, invulnerable aliens on the other side, run the mile to the second perimeter, and get help. Not a great plan, but it hardly mattered. For a start, kicking the bastard¡¯s ankle was like kicking a concrete curb. He must have felt something, because the next second, I was hauled up, swung around, and smashed into the side of the portal dais, like a dirty rug in need of a good beating. No dust came out of me, but my nose and almost certainly my cheek bone smashed from the impact. My captor barked out a few words in his harsh language at the guards around the hall who¡¯d moved to intercept. They stopped at whatever he said, and cleared the way for him to walk down the center of the hall. I expected to be thrown onto one of the benches, and braced for another impact. It would have offered some meager comfort to know I wasn¡¯t alone. With the other soldiers, we might have found a way to fight back and escape. That didn¡¯t happen. Dangling like a bag of groceries, limp and dripping blood from my face at an alarming rate, those traumatized faces didn¡¯t change. No judgment or even sympathy in their eyes at my predicament. Nothing to fire my resolve. Just a soul-crushing helplessness that sapped my already severely diminished will. From the hall of shame, we passed into a wide stone corridor lined with portraits of these creatures. Through the one bleary eye I could still open, I saw that they were fully armored, but with their helmets removed to show proud, stern faces. The corridor twisted and turned like a labyrinth, and the faces of those captive soldiers danced in my mind. The longer we walked, the more my resolve to escape returned. There was always a way, I had to believe that, and I had already counted out kicking at the armor. My eye darted about, looking for opportunities. I eyed banners draping from the ceiling, I scanned for nooks and crannies to hide in if I needed to. Nothing was singing to me until I spotted the knife in a compartment on my captor¡¯s thigh. That was my ticket. One of their own weapons would surely work against them. A hard thrust at that point just under their helmets was definitely a weak spot. I allowed myself a small, bloody grimace, then winced from the pain in my cheek. When the moment came, I swore I would go for it. If I died, I¡¯d go down fighting. Lost in my own thoughts, I barely noticed that we¡¯d stopped until my captor gave three heavy knocks on the thick, wooden door in front of us. They were answered by a voice inside, and the door creaked slowly open. My heart was in my mouth over what to expect next. There was no way to predict where this journey would end, but I doubted it would end well. Beyond the door was a large room filled with a sweet, cloying smoke that swirled in the air and filled my lungs. My vision swam, and I couldn¡¯t focus on anything in the room. Voices spoke in harsh syllables that cut through the smoky air, and I was hoisted higher to be displayed. That movement seemed to clear my head a little, and I could finally make out the others in the room. Four of the light, gray-skinned aliens lounged on deep, padded couches. Two were lean, fit, and young-looking warriors. Another, the biggest of the group by some way, had broad shoulders and a distended gut that spoke of power and comfort. The last of the four was a corpulent figure. There was no visible muscle to speak of despite being the same race as the others. He was seated in the center, wrapped in the finest robes of emerald green and deep ebony. There was little doubt that he was the leader of the group. His eyes bored into me, predatory and expectant, his next words were clearly directed at me. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. When I didn¡¯t reply, a twitch of irritation crossed his features. It vanished a second later as some understanding crossed his bulbous features. Instead of pursuing a conversation, he turned to the side of the room and barked out a few short words. I couldn¡¯t see who he was talking to, and worried there was something seriously wrong with my eyesight from all the knocks I¡¯d taken. It was little relief when a door set discreetly in the wall opened, and another of their kind appeared. This one was lean with gaunt, sharp features. Despite the malnourished appearance, he carried himself with an air of authority. After a brief exchange with the leader, he turned his attention to me, gliding over with an irritated look in his eyes. I didn¡¯t flinch when he raised his hands. Nor when he moved them toward my head. It was when the fuckers started to glow with an eerie, green light that the panic flared. I thrashed like a fish on a hook as those hands landed and heat radiated from the touch. It seared my entire brain at first, before focusing into a lancing pain that speared through my skull and down my spine. I tried to wriggle free until my captor¡¯s grip tightened so much that my pelvis cracked. Pain like nothing I¡¯d ever experienced before dragged out a raw scream. Vocal cords ruptured as darkness swarmed me like a cold blanket on a hot night. Unconsciousness must have only had me for a moment, as those glowing hands were still gripped to either side of my head when the world flooded back. ¡°Do you understand now, Earther?¡± a voice, impossibly clear, speared through the agony. ¡°Thh...¡± I tried to speak, but the soundless words faltered in my throat. The leader growled, low and threatening, his patience clearly thinning. ¡°Answer me this,¡± he demanded. ¡°Did you or did you not manage to wrong-foot a Vyrn? Did you mount his back, and remove his helmet with the intention of delivering a killing blow?¡± The words summoned the memory of my desperate struggle through the haze. The image of that moment, the raw instinct to defy them. With all the anger and defiance I possessed, I managed to hiss out a near silent, ¡°Yessss.¡± The words carried none of the venom they were supposed to. ¡°Magnificent!¡± the fat creature exclaimed. He was laughing with genuine amusement as he spun. Gesturing toward the thin alien, he nodded to me. ¡°Heal him. Then prepare him for the Ascension Capsule.¡± I understood the words but not the meaning as he spun next to one of the lean, younger aliens. ¡°Contact the Prime of House Garazal. I pledged the next promising catch to him, and it¡¯s long past time I delivered!¡± That seemed to trouble the largest of the aliens. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we wait to see the results of his ascension first?¡± ¡°Nonsense!¡± the leader snapped, waving off the suggestion with a flick of his pudgy hand. ¡°Look at him! Completely broken, yet that fire in his eyes burns hotter than a Grunir forge. He¡¯s a good catch¡ªI can feel it.¡± Their words churned in my addled mind. I was so caught between the need to pass out again to escape the pain, and desperation to glean some understanding from their conversation, that I nearly missed the thin alien¡¯s hands as they glowed once more. A flicker in my peripheral vision was the only warning before intense tingling erupted in my body. It coursed like electricity, from my chest through my limbs and into my head. At first, it found a consistent level across my body before it pooled in my face, my throat, my shoulder, and pelvis. To my pained astonishment, my dislocated shoulder started to shift. Muscles and tendons pulling the joint back into place of their own volition. The pain in my pelvis flared to a crescendo causing me to cry out again with functional vocal cords. My vision blurred again as I teetered on the edge of the void, when something changed. The bone began knitting itself back together, the raw edges of the break merging smoothly. When my captor finally set me down on all fours, I was whole again. I surged to my feet, full of a strange vitality. I was fast and strong! I was reborn! My eyes locked on to the knife on my captor¡¯s leg. Almost without thought, I lunged to grab it. A huge, unarmored hand wrapped around my forearm. Not crushing, but so firm that there was no doubt another ill-fated escape plan had just failed. I turned to look into the black eyes of the largest alien in the room. How he had moved so fast? I couldn¡¯t comprehend it. When I¡¯d lunged for the dagger, he¡¯d been at least five paces away. ¡°You are brave, Earther,¡± he boomed loudly in my ear. ¡°But let me count the ways in which you are a fool. You are unascended. Once you are ascended, you will still be vastly under-leveled to wield Vyrn Duas¡¯ side-knife. As for fighting your way out of here?¡± he chuckled. ¡°Vyrn Duas is the weakest in this room by some margin, and he has handled you like a babe since collecting you from your planet. Your fire is admirable. Your stupidity is worrying.¡± He let go of my wrist, and I staggered slightly. The illusion of speed and strength had been shattered. He placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled with genuine warmth. ¡°Lucky for you, even if you are a fool, you are potentially valuable. So should you try to run again, we won¡¯t kill you. We will break your legs and arms to keep you manageable. The Archons will be happy to heal your body while they break your spirit if you¡¯re too much trouble.¡± A chill ran down my spine at his words. They were delivered without malice, which made them all the more unsettling. I swallowed down what little fight I had left and nodded. There would be a time, but it certainly wasn¡¯t now. He took a step back. ¡°It¡¯s good you know how to show sense. Violence is not always the answer, no matter how talented you might be.¡± Despite my best efforts to never think about him again, the asshole I called a brother wriggled into my thoughts. He would strongly disagree with this creature¡¯s assessment. He would absolutely try to escape, no matter the odds, and he¡¯d take pleasure in everyone he hurt along the way. And if he died, he¡¯d die fighting and laughing till the last. I shuddered at the thought, at the empty gleam in his eyes when he had lost it. The huge alien warrior gave me an odd look as my mind wandered, then beckoned me forward. ¡°Follow me. We have work to do.¡± Chapter 4 Adam So many questions burned in my mind as I trailed after the mountain of alien muscle. But which one to ask first? And would he even answer? I decided to keep it simple. ¡°Who are you people?¡± ¡°Unalarans,¡± he said simply. His tone was surprisingly conversational. ¡°More specifically, Unalaran hunters. We collect valuable specimens from worlds too weak or too isolated to join the Union. Sometimes both, which is the case with your world. Earth is so weak in magic; the last time your portal stone absorbed enough charge for a crossing was back when I first took my oaths as a Vyrn.¡± He took on a wistful look. ¡°That was fifty-seven Union years ago. Good times.¡± So much information in such a short statement. My voice wavered as I asked my next question. A stupid question, no doubt, but one I needed a solid answer to, nonetheless. ¡°I¡¯m on another world, aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You¡¯re on Unalar. Our home planet.¡± The events of the past hour¡ªor however long it had been¡ªwere so far out of my wheelhouse that I wasn¡¯t sure how any sane person could cope with all this. But what choice did I have? I was alone, completely outmatched, and somehow, I was on an alien planet. ¡°A lot to process?¡± he asked, voice calm, almost sympathetic. I glared at him, my fists clenching reflexively. ¡°Why are you being friendly after what your people did to mine? You slaughtered so many.¡± He shrugged apologetically. ¡°Animosity achieves nothing. And as for your people... Try not to take it personally. This is business, and like all businesses, we have overheads and margins. We can¡¯t just take everyone we meet. Buyers need fighters first and foremost, so if your people died in our attack, it means they failed the most basic test of value.¡± His callous words sent a wave of rage through me. Useless rage, for what could I do with it but seethe? ¡°Is that why you killed the scientists outright?¡± ¡°Scientists?¡± He tilted his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know this word. If they died, it¡¯s because they were of no use to us.¡± He motioned toward another corridor, his tone light. ¡°Lucky for you, you survived. If the Archons accept you, and you prove your worth, you could live a very good life in the Union.¡± ¡°A slave¡¯s life is not a good life,¡± I snapped, though the words felt hollow. Deep down, part of me was just glad to be alive. Alive, there was a chance. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± he said, stopping in front of a door unlike any I¡¯d seen so far. The others we¡¯d passed had been wooden, with black metal work. This one was made of a smooth marble-like material with a myriad of colors in its grain. It slid open silently as we approached, revealing the thin alien who had healed me. ¡°Good, you¡¯re here,¡± he said, standing up straight, looking exhausted. ¡°All the channels are flooded with power. The crystal is fully charged and ready to go.¡± With deft movements, he finished whatever he was doing before closing the compartment with brief glow of hands. The closed cover merged seamlessly with the smooth ebony walls of the room. ¡°All yours, Earther. I hope you¡¯re worth the cost. Not many earn an ascension so soon after capture.¡± ¡°What does that mean?¡± I demanded, my voice cracking slightly. ¡°What is ascension?¡± ¡°What it sounds like,¡± my escort said as he pushed me into the chamber. ¡°We¡¯re making you better.¡± The thin one snorted. ¡°Not better. Just unlocking your pathways. Your body and mind can finally reach their full potential. If you live long enough.¡± Before I could respond, the door slid shut with a soft whoosh. The room was plunged briefly into darkness before a pulsing red glow was emitted from the walls. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. For a brief moment, it reminded me of the time I had used a sunbed¡ªa misguided attempt a couple of years ago to tan my pale skin before a holiday. I was eighteen at the time, burned bright red like a cooked lobster. It wasn¡¯t my finest moment with the pain taking an hour to surface and a week to leave. In this room, the burning started immediately, and there the similarity ended. The pain escalated into the sensation of a million tiny needles driving into every bare millimeter of my flesh. I screamed and writhed. My new favorite hobby, it seemed. When the sensation subsided, the torture still wasn¡¯t over with. It deepened until I could feel it in my bones, a sensation like being ripped apart from the inside out. I was certain I was going to die, and once again welcomed the darkness. When I awoke, there was little doubt I¡¯d passed out again. Starfished on the floor, I was now bathed in a soothing green light. My body hummed with the familiar healing energy that the skinny Unalaran had used on me, and as the sharp edges of my pain receded, the light faded. By the time it disappeared entirely, the door slid open again. My escort stood watching me with an intense curiosity. ¡°Welcome, Adam Henshaw,¡± he said, his voice tinged with amusement. ¡°Your level is comfortably above average for fresh game. Congratulations.¡± I froze. ¡°How do you know my name?¡± A faint smile lifted his face. ¡°The ascension reveals your basic identification. Your name and level are displayed clearly. You are Level 12, which is high for a newly ascended captive. What I¡¯m more interested in is your individual stat levels; I¡¯d appreciate it if you let me know. The Archon representative is here, and he is eager to meet you.¡± ¡°Here?¡± I replied feeling a surge of panic. ¡°The person you want to sell me to is here already. That was fast.¡± ¡°Not really. Ascension takes a two full Union days. Approximately forty-two of your Earth hours to carry out.¡± My jaw dropped. ¡°No, that¡¯s not possible. I¡¯ve been in here a day and a half?¡± He offered a sympathetic smile. ¡°We are on a tight time scale here. You tell me your stats, and I¡¯ll explain a little more about the ascension capsule as we walk.¡± Despite my revulsion at the situation, a flicker of curiosity gnawed at me. Levels and stats? Who wouldn¡¯t want to know how they measured up. ¡°How do I go about checking those numbers?¡± He gave a faint smile. ¡°Let¡¯s start with something simple. Focus on me first. My essence, if you like.¡± I frowned, unsure as to what he meant. ¡°Your¡­ essence?¡± ¡°Yes! Focus on me as a whole, beyond what you see with your eyes.¡± It sounded ridiculous, like the sort of bullshit a motivational speaker would spout. Still, I had no better ideas, so I tried. At first, I stared at him blankly, my mind a jumble of frustration and uncertainty. Then I glared, letting my anger build as I thought about what he represented. My hatred flared, but his calm demeanor threw me off balance. He seemed so at ease, so friendly. This was just a routine day in his monstrous line of work. And while I could hate what they¡¯d done to me and my fellow humans, I had to at least acknowledge that humans had been trafficking each other since time fucking began. The moment I acknowledged that our races probably weren¡¯t so different, something clicked. A rush of clarity flooded my mind, and words appeared, not in my vision but somewhere deeper, as if my thoughts had organized themselves into clean, readable lines: Name: Pero Ala Title: Vyrnsoul of the First House of Hunters Level: 38 Class: Warrior/Tradesman I blinked in astonishment, my heart pounding. I had done it. Without showing any outward sign of my discovery, I forced myself to remain neutral and turn my new focus inward. The sensation was strange¡ªlike peeling back layers of myself, navigating the subtle changes left behind by the red energy of ascension. It didn¡¯t take long for the information to surface. Again, it didn¡¯t manifest in front of my eyes but seemed to exist inside my mind, crisp and clear, as if it had always been there: Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 12 Class: ¡ª Stats: Progress in Class: I soaked in the numbers, absorbing them. Toughness and Mental Acuity seemed straightforward, but Harmony¡­ that was a curveball. Why was it my highest stat? What did it mean? ¡°You have found them?¡± The Vyrnsoul¡¯s voice cut into my thoughts, sharp and expectant. I hesitated. Revealing my stats felt deeply personal, as if laying bare my weaknesses and strengths to an enemy who could exploit them. My gut screamed at me to keep them to myself, but my gaze flickered to his level¡ª38. The difference was staggering. Swallowing my pride, I nodded. ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve found them.¡± Satisfaction flickered in his eyes. ¡°A promising start! You¡¯re handling this better than most. Now tell me.¡± I clenched my jaw, saying nothing for a moment, the shame of my powerlessness bubbling beneath the surface. My time would come, I told myself, gripping tightly to the thought. One day, I¡¯d turn the tables. Just not today. Today I would endure. Today I would survive. Today I would tell him all of my stats like an impotent coward. Chapter 5 Adam ¡°That Harmony score,¡± Pero whistled softly, then shook his head as if to clear it of something unsettling. ¡°If you want my advice, Adam.¡± His tone was now neutral but firm. ¡°I was going to suggest focusing on a hybrid build for combat. Your racial physical composition is average among the races of the Union. Poor for extremes.¡± I frowned at the sudden change in his demeanor and the direction of the conversation. He noticed, and with a sigh, he explained his meaning. ¡°You are too small to reach the pinnacle of strength. And too large to be lightning fast. So be smart. Be faster than larger opponents, and stronger than smaller opponents.¡± For a split second, I found myself grateful for the advice from the amiable giant, until the reality cut back in. That¡¯s the funny thing about a tough life. You learn to cut the bad shit out to survive, but it resurfaces in waves. If he noticed the change in my demeanor, he didn¡¯t show it and continued. ¡°Of course! Now that I know you have a high base Harmony, if you can follow the path of magic¡­¡± He stopped for a moment as if to collect himself. He met my eyes. ¡°You could become a household name across the Union. Who knows, in a few turns from now, I might be telling my grandchildren how I knew the Earther! Assuming the Archons train you well and you¡¯re half as able as I think you are.¡± My aggression waned with his optimistic words, and that made me angry at myself. I had to get a grip with my emotions. What the hell was wrong with me? I was up and down like a yo-yo. Get a grip, Adam! Clenching my jaw shut, I didn¡¯t reply to his compliment, and the remainder of the short walk, an eternal thirty seconds, was in uncomfortable silence. We returned to the smoking room again, but it had transformed. The haze was gone, replaced by a sterile calm. Only the fat Unalaran was present, seated behind an ornate desk carved from a highly polished pale wood. His bloated form exuded authority, even as his jowls quivered from turning sharply to take us in with his beady eyes. I took the opportunity to scan his details. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. The repulsive creature¡¯s level was higher than Pero¡¯s, and he even had the warrior class too. Name: Ulas Rae Title: Cerun of the First House of Hunters Level: 40 Class: Warrior/Tradesman ¡°Level 12?¡± The Cerun¡¯s voice was as sharp as the glint in his eyes. ¡°Not as high as I¡¯d dared to hope, but extremely good, nonetheless. What other news, Vyrnsoul?¡± Pero¡¯s smile was broad and predatory, reminding me in no uncertain terms that this man wasn¡¯t my friend. ¡°Better than his level would suggest. Adam here has a standout stat.¡± ¡°Do not dance around the sigil, Pero! You were not promoted for your cleverness! Tell me!¡± To my surprise, Pero bowed slightly. ¡°Apologies, my lord. He is at Level 14 in Harmony. His other two stats are both at 12.¡± For a moment, the Cerun looked like he was trying to breathe underwater, mouth opening and closing. His eyes flickered between us until they finally settled on me. With a loud clap of his hands, he surged to his feet, laughing. ¡°A potential Warrior Mage! What a day, what a day!¡± He looked to Pero. ¡°I think our asking price just went up! And on the cusp of reaching Level 13 too...¡± He paused, eyes taking on an evil glint. ¡°Vyrnsoul. Would you be so kind as to gather some training equipment for the Earther and yourself.¡± Pero frowned. ¡°Training equipment? Aren¡¯t the Archons waiting?¡± ¡°This shouldn¡¯t take long. Now run along.¡± Pero was almost at the door when the Cerun called after him again. ¡°Oh, and would you please tell Tuas to attend me? We will sorely need his services.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. With a pained expression for me, Pero left the room, and at that point, I really should¡¯ve caught on to what was about to happen. The clues were all there, but I was too busy trying to be cold and emotionless. Now that there was only the two of us. I eyed the Cerun cautiously as he waddled toward me. His oily grin revealed crooked teeth as one massive hand clapped me on the shoulder. Too heavy and far too familiar. ¡°Tell me, Earther. Do you think there are many like you on your planet?¡± The question threw me. How could I answer that? Say no, and they¡¯d continue slaughtering us carelessly. Say yes, and they might not kill as many but they¡¯d stay longer, hunting more of my people. I swallowed hard, choosing my words carefully. ¡°I couldn¡¯t say. There are skilled fighters on Earth, but the idea of Harmony is... unfamiliar to us. If it¡¯s rare on our world, I imagine it would be harder to detect among my people. Especially when you assess value by how quickly someone dies.¡± The Cerun burst into laughter, a horrible, wheezing sound. ¡°I suppose so! Few are rich in Harmony, it¡¯s true. Even our very own House Mage, Tuas, started with a base Harmony of 11. That is considered high among the Unalarans.¡± I couldn¡¯t hide my surprise, and the Cerun caught it and grinned all the wider. ¡°Finding you is like finding rotaga in zelini stew!¡± I had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn¡¯t stop him from continuing. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s always more cost effective to find those with the will to survive! They¡¯re always high in Toughness and at least adequate in Mental Acuity¡ªeven if they don¡¯t know it themselves. And the harvest on Earth this time...¡± He chuckled darkly. ¡°It¡¯s not going too badly at all. Far better than our last visit. Back then, there were so few of you near the Portal Stone that we had to range for almost twenty cycles just to meet quotas.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what a cycle is.¡± With a waft of his hand, and an unpleasant twist to his mouth, he both dismissed my confusion, yet still engaged the question. ¡°Five days.¡± ¡°Of Earth days or your days? The Vyrnsoul told me that they don¡¯t match up.¡± ¡°Union days, you fool. Why would I use your turgid little planet¡¯s system of measurement?¡± ¡°I¡¯m just looking for a frame of reference,¡± I snapped back. ¡°It¡¯s the least you could do considering the circumstances.¡± ¡°I owe you nothing, Earther. But the last time we visited, your baking sun passed overhead approximately eighty times before the portal lost power. Plenty of time to bring more of your friends!¡± The Cerun¡¯s tone had turned almost jovial again. When I scowled, he caught it. ¡°Oh! I see. You were thinking about your own escape with the question, not how many more of your people will be captured before the portal closes. I knew I liked you, Earther. There¡¯s an animal in you, and I respect that.¡± His words struck a nerve. An animal. Perhaps there was an animal in me, but not one of my making. With clenched fists and stinging pride, I considered attacking while we were alone. Sure, his numbers said it was a bad idea, but I couldn¡¯t match what I read with what I saw in front of me. At the very least, it might be worth making a run for it. No sooner as I had the thought, the slender Unalaran I now knew was named Tuas slid into the room. I scanned his identifier on the off chance it was still worth the risk. Name: Tuas Rae Title: First Mage of the First House of Hunters Level: 27 Class: Mage Pero¡¯s return a moment later, arms laden with weapons and shields, put all thoughts of running from my mind. With the grace of a stalking panther, he crossed the room and dumped his haul at my feet before picking out a sword and a shield from the pile. ¡°Choose,¡± he commanded as he took a step back. I stared at the pile, bewildered. ¡°What? What is this?¡± ¡°Choose,¡± the Cerun commanded, retreating to the comfortable couch. I looked down at the pile. There was barely anything there that I could lift and swing with any real skill. It was all too big. ¡°Come on,¡± the Cerun yelled. ¡°We haven¡¯t got all day!¡± Begrudgingly, I picked up the smallest sword that I could find. Its weight was awkward in my hand, but I was relieved to notice that all of the edges on the weapons were dulled. ¡°And a shield,¡± Pero added, his tone flat. I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what this is about, but I¡¯ve never used a shield in my life.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s time you learned,¡± the Cerun declared, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. ¡°A shield is as much a weapon as a sword in the right hands, and there¡¯s no better teacher than our Vyrnsoul. He wields one better than I ever did in my prime!¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I muttered, examining the useless sword. ¡°This will go faster if you use one,¡± Pero said, his tone carrying a weight that I couldn¡¯t ignore. Exasperated, I snapped back a reply, ¡°What will go faster? I thought I was being sold.¡± ¡°BEGIN!¡± the Cerun¡¯s shout rang out, and Pero moved like a storm cloud¡ªfast, unstoppable, and full of violence. Before I could react, his shield slammed into me. The impact was a devastating force of nature that sent me hurtling across the room to smack into the stone wall. A sickening crack echoed through my mind as my neck snapped. I dropped to the floor like a sack of shit, my body lifeless, unresponsive. Panic gripped me¡ªpure, undiluted terror as I confronted the reality of full paralysis and approaching death. Then warmth flooded through me, and my neck realigned with a nauseating pop. I gasped, not from pain but from sheer, overwhelming relief. ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± I roared, clambering back to my feet. Pero stood there, cool as a cucumber, a faint smirk on his lips. ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t take a shield?¡± Chapter 6 Adam I lost track of time in the bludgeoning. Any hit I scored was granted just as often as any moment where I wasn¡¯t flat on my back, broken and in agony. There were very few of either. Despite that, it seemed out of all of us that the house mage worked the hardest. Every few minutes, he patched me up with glowing hands, pale-faced from the exertion he was forced to continue. After possibly my tenth full body healing, I saw relief spread across his pale-face only inches from my own. ¡°It is done!¡± Through thick, numb lips, I mumbled. ¡°What¡¯s done?¡± He backed off, not answering, but making room for the Cerun as he came marching over. ¡°Bravo, the two of you! Excellent work.¡± He hauled me up to my feet and inspected me. ¡°Better get him cleaned up before the sale. I¡¯ll go and round up our guests and meet the two of you in the main hall in fifteen minutes!¡± Dazed and confused, I watched as the Cerun swept from the room before I was led off once more by Pero. Of Tuas, there was no sign. I groaned as we passed through the door. ¡°What the hell was that all about?¡± Pero grunted. ¡°Best not to talk too much about it, but we cheated a little. You see, a base level of 12 is impressive. But Level 13? That is phenomenal. The Cerun, in his vast wisdom, has most likely doubled his money on you.¡± Just before I blurted out the instinctual Whadda you mean? My mind caught up, and I checked my stats instead. Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 13 Class: ¡ª Stats: Progress in Class: Words failed me. They¡¯d beaten me to within an inch of my life for the best part of an hour¡ªall for a little extra money. I spat blood onto the floor, barely contained anger moving from simmer to boil. ¡°You heartless bastards. I suppose you¡¯re expecting me to lie to these Archons about this as well?¡± Pero frowned, his expression curdling like milk on the turn. ¡°The Archons treat the other Union races as a parent treats an unruly child. But when it comes to their property? They expect obedience and silence unless addressed.¡± His words stung. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. ¡°So much for the good life you promised.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s true,¡± he said coolly. ¡°But you¡¯ll need to prove yourself worthy first. Make good on the potential your stats promise. Do that and you¡¯ll rise far and fast. That much I swear to you, Adam of Earth.¡± A flicker of something unreadable crossed over his face like a cloud over the sun on a clear day. ¡°For now, we need you clean. Follow me, and don¡¯t dally. Leveling you up was unpleasant, but make no mistake, you will be cleaned in the next fifteen minutes, whether you do it willingly or not.¡± ¡°You could just let me go home?¡± I spat out. ¡°It¡¯s not as if you personally get anything from selling me, do you?¡± That brought a laugh from him. ¡°I serve my house, and your sale means that my house becomes richer. If you level well, we¡¯ll also acquire prestige from capturing you in the first place. Prestige brings more sales. Still, I don¡¯t blame you for at least trying, no matter how unlikely. Now come, let us part on amicable terms. ¡°Amicable is one word to describe how I feel about you all.¡± I puffed out tired cheeks in exasperation. ¡°The wrong word.¡± Then to my continued shame, I followed. I was led to a small room¡ªbare except for a wardrobe and Tuas. The mage looked to be somewhat invigorated, though he still watched me with irritation as I came to a halt in the middle of the room. ¡°Please stay as still as possible during this process, we don¡¯t want any incidents.¡± ¡°Incidents? What could be worse than the¡­¡± A burning sensation flashed over. Intense but gone as fast as it came. With just a few glowing gestures, Tuas had managed to dissolve not just my tattered and bloody uniform, but every trace of blood and grime from my body. Naked as the day I was born, it took a moment to realize that every strand of hair on my body was gone too. Until now, these bastards hadn¡¯t left me with much dignity, but this last act had stripped me of what little I had left. ¡°Clothes are in the wardrobe,¡± Tuas snapped. ¡°You have three minutes to dress, or we will take you to your new owners naked.¡± My scream of frustration was raw and wordless as I glared at Tuas. Survival instinct had kept me alive so far, but it really was starting to feel like cowardice. ¡°I will,¡± I snarled. ¡°But why strip me like this? All of my hair? Is it just to humiliate me further?¡± Tuas frowned, his tone surprisingly matter-of-fact. ¡°No. You¡¯re from another world and you carried germs and diseases. The Archons are very particular about buying clean merchandise.¡± For some reason, the rational explanation didn¡¯t help my mood. But what could I do? I stormed over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. Inside was a pair of black sandals and a neatly folded beige shirt with matching trousers. I pulled them out like a petulant child who didn¡¯t want to go to school. Eighty days, I muttered to myself as I dressed. Though, it was seventy-seven if I¡¯d been here for two already. Seventy-seven days to grow strong and make a plan to find a way back to the portal. No matter what it took, I would do it. ¡°Sandals,¡± Tuas said before I¡¯d even pulled the top over my head. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I¡¯m doing it,¡± I growled. ¡°I fucking hope one day that I do grow powerful so that I can come back here and shove these sandals up your arse, First Mage.¡± He looked genuinely offended. ¡°And after all the healing I have given you.¡± ¡°If you really believe that the healing was for my benefit, then you¡¯re an even bigger fool than I first took you for.¡± ¡°Now, now,¡± Pero said with his usual calm. ¡°No need to finish here on a low, Adam. It will do you no favors, and you never know where your path might lead you. You might need friends in the future.¡± I had no response to that beyond more venom, so I remained silent. Satisfied, Pero beckoned me to follow and together, we all skipped happily to my alien slave sale. Five figures waited for us in a grand hall. It seemed excessively large for the people present, but the Cerun struck me as the kind of person who liked to show off at any available opportunity. He stood with the two Unalarans who¡¯d been smoking with him when I¡¯d first arrived here, and then there were two other men who couldn¡¯t have been more different. It was hard not to gawp, for if a race could be perfect, at least in human eyes, then this was it. Where my captors looked like brutes, the Archons where lean and beautiful, with flawless golden skin that seemed to glisten, and hair that shimmered, as if spun from the sun itself. Smaller than the Unalarans, and only a little taller than me, they looked the more angelic and infinitely more powerful than the others in the room. Dressed in immaculate red suits with sharp gold and silver embroidery woven in intricate patterns, they both watched me with neutral expressions. ¡°This is the one?¡± the broader of the two men asked in a loud, clear voice. ¡°I must say, he doesn¡¯t look like much. Smaller than I was expecting, and the base level doesn¡¯t suit the hunted look in his eyes. Are you completely certain this is a new acquisition, Rae?¡± Cerun Rae puffed out his chest. It wasn¡¯t an impressive display, but I barely noticed. My attention was consumed by a subtle but relentless tremble that coursed through my body. It resembled the aftermath of an adrenaline surge. ¡°I am the head of the most prestigious house of hunters in all the Union! Do you think I would risk my reputation with such tricks! And on the House of Garazal no less! I am many things, Warden Anso, but a fool is not among them.¡± I tried to focus, desperate to read the identifiers of the Archons, but the tremor seemed to make that impossible. The broader of the two tilted his head, considering Rae¡¯s words with cold deliberation. ¡°If you did sell my lord a lie, there would be¡­ repercussions.¡± Though his voice was smooth, each word was heavy with menace. ¡°I do not think even you are arrogant enough to risk that kind of retribution.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± Cerun Rae barked. ¡°Now stop wasting my time with your baseless accusations. Do your checks, agree to the price, and take your prize.¡± The Archon¡¯s eyes flicked to his silent companion. The man¡¯s gaze was distant, as if looking inward. The focus to him brought a tense silence across the room, and I ached to know what was going on. When his eyes cleared, the sensation that had gripped me vanished. My breath came easier, and finally, their identifiers became available. Name: Ermine Stanis Title: Augur of House Garazal Level: 37 Class: Mage Name: Gorian Anso Title: Warden of House Garazal. UCPF Field Marshal 2nd Rank Level: 45 Class: Warrior ¡°His base level is high,¡± the Augur said, his voice low and firm. ¡°14 isn¡¯t an exaggeration. If I¡¯d been told 15, I would have accepted it.¡± The Warden¡¯s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. ¡°And the other stats are 13 for Toughness and 12 for Mental Acuity, correct?¡± Cerun Rae nodded vigorously, his head bobbing like an overeager dog. ¡°Exactly! And you know what that means, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Oh, I do, Cerun,¡± the Warden said with a warning look in his eyes. ¡°But the road to becoming a Warrior Mage is long and perilous. He has much to prove between now and then, which means, as things stand, your price is too steep. We will go no higher than 15,000 Unitols.¡± Cerun Rae¡¯s face flushed crimson, his outrage palpable. ¡°That¡¯s half! Do you seek to impoverish our fine house, Archon? Such an offer¡ª¡± ¡°Enough.¡± The Warden¡¯s tone cut through Rae¡¯s protests like a blade. ¡°This is a risk for our house. We rarely deal in Earthers, and their growth arcs are not well documented. It could be that he starts strong yet struggles to reach Level 20. However, this Earther does intrigue me, so I propose we split the risk. Here¡¯s the rest of my counter offer: half now, and if he achieves Warrior Mage status, a further thirty thousand.¡± Cerun Rae stilled, his small eyes glinting as he considered. ¡°Forty-five thousand credits, you say? And what growth is deemed satisfactory to trigger the second payment?¡± ¡°Both Warrior and Mage paths must reach Level 15. Harmony and Toughness must reach 25. If this comes to pass, you¡¯ll have your money. And do not fear, he will receive rigorous training to reach these goals.¡± A slow smile split the Cerun¡¯s face. ¡°If he reaches mastery in only one of the paths, I want the remaining fifteen thousand.¡± It was the Warden¡¯s turn to shake his head. ¡°You know as well as I that the sum of the parts are not equal to the whole. If he reaches either level independently, you will receive an additional five thousand, and that is my final offer.¡± His eyes seemed to bore into the Cerun¡¯s. ¡°It is a very good offer, and I¡¯d hate to see your relationship with our house suffer through greed.¡± ¡°Of course, of course,¡± the fat Unalaran said, shifting uncomfortably. ¡°You drive a hard bargain, Warden Anso, but I accept your terms.¡± The Warden¡¯s lip curled into a faint sneer. ¡°Funds will transfer once we¡¯ve secured our new asset. If you find any other interesting exhibits, please do let us know.¡± As the Warden finished speaking, the Augur raised his hands. Light erupted from them in a far more impressive display of power than anything I¡¯d seen Tuas achieve. But of all the powers I expected to see, a glowing portal was not one of them. I flinched when Vyrnsoul Pero gently placed a hand on my back. Was he really going for a touching moment? ¡°All yours,¡± he said to the Augur, then shoved me with surprising force toward the two Archons. I didn¡¯t have time to be angry. The two Archons gripped my arms with unbreakable grips, and without fanfare, stepped through the portal. The moment we reached the other side, they let go, and I fell to the smooth stone floor, where I promptly vomited. Suffice to say, the small Archon Portal was a far rougher ride than the one I had passed through from Earth. As I heaved, I heard the Warden mutter above me, ¡°Pathetic.¡± The Augur crouched beside me, patting my back. ¡°Welcome to the Ennochamber, Earther. It¡¯s a special Archon delight for low-leveled livestock. Perfect for boosting that Toughness of yours.¡± The Warden snorted. ¡°Sometimes even Harmony gets a boost in here. Some say that¡¯s because you¡¯re forced to look deeper into your soul. I just think it¡¯s the exposure to raw magic.¡± My linen shirt was pulled off my shoulder roughly, and I tried to spin to defend myself against whatever was coming next. The Augur¡¯s hand gripped the shoulder before I could move an inch and held me fast with incredible strength. ¡°Welcome to House Garazal.¡± A burning sensation seared my skin and then deep into my flesh. I screamed, though it was a weak, ragged sound. The hand left my shoulder, and the two men left the room laughing. Their voices echoed down the hallway as I lay beside my vomit, too weak to move beyond an awkward glance back to check my shoulder. A brand had been burned into the flesh there. I could hardly see it, but from what I could make out, it looked like a circle with a depiction of a columned building. Try as I might, I couldn¡¯t turn back far enough to get a good look. My head fell back to the floor to rest. From there, I could see that the room was a stark, twelve-foot cube of seamless brown stone. No windows, no fixtures or fittings. The light seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, like in the Ascension chamber, soft but omnipresent. After what felt like an hour of disorientation, I finally felt strong enough to move into a more comfortable position. That was when I received the first shock of my new life. Literally. The entire floor came alive with the magical equivalent of electricity. My entire body locked up, every nerve was aflame. The pain was so immense and unrelenting that my mind retreated to a dark, numb corner just to cope. When it finally ended, I lay a twitching, spasming mess. Despite my fear of it happening again, exhaustion dragged me into a restless, fear-filled sleep. When I awoke, it was to a repeat of the torture. When it stopped for the second time, it was all I could do not to sob. By the end of the first day, I cried and wished I¡¯d never joined the army. By the end of the first week, with nothing to drink, nothing to eat, and no way out despite my best efforts, the only thought left in my mind was wishing I¡¯d never been born. Two points in Toughness was a small mercy Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 13 Class: ¡ª Stats: Chapter 7 – Earl ¡°The hell is that,¡± I growled, springing to my feet from the sofa. The protruding gut I¡¯d developed over the last few years was barely a hinderance. None at all if I was angry enough. Heading over to the monitors, I drained the last of my bud and hurled it at the trash can. It hit the wall like a missile and dropped straight in. I rarely missed before 9 P.M. Moving into the security room, six displays showed the land around my house. No one came out here anymore. Not for anything good. Checking the first monitor to see who¡¯d buzzed the gate intercom, I felt my anger bubble up a little more. ¡°Fucking military,¡± I hissed at the sight of two suited officers and five grunts by the looks of it. Dropping a finger on the intercom, I greeted them. ¡°Whatever it is, it wasn¡¯t me. Ain¡¯t left this place in six months. Now fuck off.¡± One of the officers, a big, baldy type with muscles on muscles, leaned forward to speak into the intercom. ¡°This is Sergeant Graham. I¡¯m with Sergeant Eustace. We¡¯re just here to talk, Earl. Now be a good lad and open the gates.¡± Shaking my head, I hit the intercom again. ¡°I ain¡¯t ever been a good lad and them gates ¡®r stayin¡¯ closed. I¡¯ll tell you for the last time, I ain¡¯t done nothing and you ain¡¯t got nothing to say to me that I want to hear.¡± The big officer¡ªI¡¯d already forgotten his name¡ªgave the gates a good rattle, testing them out. I hit the intercom again. ¡°Get the fuck off my gates, baldy. You break them and I break you.¡± Baldy leaned toward the intercom and jabbed the button again. ¡°You might have been hot shit a few years ago, Earl. But I¡¯ve seen the surveillance footage. You¡¯re a soft, pudgy has-been. Now open up. We need to talk.¡± The other sergeant stepped toward baldy. ¡°Don¡¯t aggravate him. That¡¯s not what¡­¡± I was fuming now, and hit the comm, speaking over both of them. ¡°Fighting talk, huh? Lucky for you, I¡¯ve settled down lately, so I¡¯m not going to come down there and bust your big, baldy head wide open as long as you fuck off. Now I¡¯m done talking.¡± I hit the intercom again, this time to turn it off completely, though I continued to watch them through the camera. After a bit of heated conversation between them, a smile slowly spread across my face. The stupid bastards had made the decision to pop the gates. ¡°Now that looks a lot like invasion of property to me,¡± I muttered to the screen. I knew my rights, and they sure as shit hadn¡¯t shown any kind of warrant. Decisions made all round, I headed to my training room to grab my worn tactical gloves from the side. I slipped them on and did a couple of half-assed stretches before punching the bag a few times. Ready as I¡¯d ever be, I jogged out to meet my visitors. I knew they¡¯d have guns, but they¡¯d all lose their jobs if they fired on me after entering my land against my wishes. I also knew that if I met them with a gun or a weapon, I¡¯d most likely get screwed over. The route to the gate from my house was a half mile of winding gravel path not big enough to drive a car along, so they¡¯d have no choice but to walk it. Trees lined the way, so we wouldn¡¯t make each other out until we were half a dozen yards away. I pounded along the track with a grin stretched on my face. The police had hounded me for as long as I could remember, but while I¡¯d had my run in¡¯s with the military too, this was a surprise. I hated the bastards more than words could express, so it was also a special treat. When I thought we must be getting close to each other, I moved off the gravel and onto the narrow grass verge. The stupid bastards were so confident in their numbers and my lack of conditioning that they didn¡¯t even bother to conceal their approach. The crunching of gravel grew steadily louder, whereas I was almost silent on the grass. I slowed as I came to where I knew my cameras would get a good view of whatever happened, then measured my approach so that we both arrived there at the same time. Didn¡¯t want to make it look like I¡¯d planned it at all. I saw them before they saw me, but I¡¯d give them warning before I hit. Had to abide by the law after all, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to clear myself if I struck first. I knew the big one would be easy to goad into throwing a punch. ¡°Oi!¡± I roared as I stalked out of the shadows. ¡°I told you dodgy bastards to keep off my land!¡± All heads swiveled as one. The sergeant with hair¡ªEustace, I think his name was¡ªput his hands up in a peaceful gesture. ¡°Earl, we¡¯re seriously here just to talk. It¡¯s about your brother.¡± I felt a rare spasm of emotion that wasn¡¯t anger, twist in my gut. I crushed it down. ¡°Don¡¯t want to hear it. Now get off my land while you can all still walk.¡± ¡°Not until we¡¯ve talked,¡± baldy rumbled. He was much bigger in the flesh, a good six-six, and nearly that wide across the shoulders. ¡°And I think you¡¯re overestimating your position here. There¡¯d only be one person losing the ability to walk, and I¡¯d make sure of it myself,¡± he sneered. I got the impression that baldy really wanted to test himself against me. That was perfect. ¡°Leave it, Dan. You¡¯re not helping matters,¡± Eustace said. He was a lot older, mid-forties and about my height. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. I scowled at Eustace. ¡°What did you bring him for? Looks to me like he¡¯s here to make a very clear point. If you really wanted to talk civilly with me, you wouldn¡¯t have brought this giant prick with you. And you certainly wouldn¡¯t let him do the talking.¡± Eustace sighed, ¡°I had no choice. Our superior thought it would be for the best. Now can we sit down somewhere and talk? It¡¯s not just about your brother. We need your help.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°My help! I¡¯m fucking speechless. Why the hell would you need my help, and more to the point, why the fuck would I ever give it? If Adam¡¯s dead, just spit it out and then get off my land.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know if he¡¯s dead. That¡¯s part of what we wanted to talk to you about. You¡¯ll be well paid and¡­¡± ¡°Blah, blah, blah. I already told you I didn¡¯t want to hear your bullshit. But seeing as I¡¯m in a good mood, I¡¯ll listen on one condition.¡± Eustace sighed. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll listen if that big bag of water you¡¯ve brought with you can beat me in a fight.¡± ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Eustace said firmly. Baldy punched his hand, seemingly happy with the development. ¡°Definitely.¡± ¡°Looks like we got ourselves a deal then.¡± I grinned. ¡°For god¡¯s sake, Earl,¡± Eustace snapped. ¡°I¡¯m asking you to help us find your brother! Is that not enough?¡± It was. Of course it was. Adam couldn¡¯t stand me, but I still loved him in my own way. But I also hadn¡¯t had a good scrap in ages, and this baldy bastard was just begging for it. Plus they had broken onto my land. Somebody had to pay. Eustace must have noticed that I wasn¡¯t listening and turned to Graham. ¡°Don¡¯t do this. If this gets back¡­¡± Graham put a hand up to silence the smaller man. ¡°You said yourself this is why I¡¯m here.¡± Then he set to removing his knee length coat to further demonstrate his ridiculous physique. ¡°You gonna take them gloves off, little man?¡± Compared to him, I was little. Just pushing six-foot. But I agreed and slipped the gloves off. He limbered up, throwing a few punches into the air. They weren¡¯t too bad considering his size. I probably should have been worried. You know the old saying a good biggun always beats a good littlun? Eustace was still barking out orders to stop, but the back-up they brought made no effort to intervene, watching the two of us with glee. They¡¯d love it if I got my arse handed to me, of that there was no doubt. Then it was on. Baldy squared up, boxing guard. ¡°You get the first three shots free,¡± he jeered. Punching first wasn¡¯t in my plan, and I was surprised he was clever enough to realize I had to attack first or he was fucked if this went further. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I replied with a shrug, then produced a high-powered, beer flavored jet of spit that went straight through his guard and hit his left eye. My cameras were good, but they weren¡¯t good enough to pick that up in the dark. They¡¯d definitely pick Baldy losing it and coming at me with a sharp jab followed by a heavy right hook. I evaded both punches easily before sending a solid straight right into his solar plexus. The packed muscle protected him a little, but he still bent forward from the blow. Perfect! I brought my head up to meet his big old face. There was a solid impact, a dull thunking sound like throwing a good slab of meat on the counter. I could almost feel his nose crunching and each individual tooth rattling through the back of my head. He tried to grab a hold of me. An obvious response. Rather than dodge, I followed up with a sharp knee to the nuts. His arms went weak, and I stepped back as he buckled over, clutching at his crotch, gasping through a bloody mouth and glaring daggers at me. He¡¯d done well to stay on his feet. Time to change that. ¡°You know the old saying a good biggun always beats a good littlun?¡± I asked as conversationally as I could. ¡°It¡¯s bullshit.¡± Then I stamped on the inside of the bastard¡¯s knee, bringing a satisfying crack. As he finally dropped to the ground, keeling over like a felled tree in slow motion, I managed to get in a tasty right hook to the temple. It switched him off like a light before his head even hit the gravel. I could hear distant shouting, but I wasn¡¯t finished yet. The others would have to wait. Raising my foot, I brought it down on his unprotected throat. It never landed. Something big had hit my chest, and I was carried to the floor myself. ¡°Bastards!¡± I screamed as five unhappy uniforms plowed in to me, all of them kicking and punching and screaming their rage. I grabbed hold of an incoming leg and yanked on it. The owner fell nearby, and I rummaged around for his face, searching desperately for eyes to gouge through the barrage. One at a time, Earl, I told myself calmly. One at a time. I felt something squish under my fingers, but as soon as I managed to get some purchase, he was gone. Most likely pulled to safety. It didn¡¯t matter. There were still others. I kept up my own wild kicks and punches, thrashing around as they booted into me. Catching a standing knee, I felt rather than heard it give way. As the owner of the leg screamed, I managed to grab an incoming fist. Snaking my hand around the wrist, I held on, hoping to use it to get back to my feet. Next thing I knew, it felt like I¡¯d been kicked by a mule. Every muscle in my body clenched up tighter than a duck¡¯s arsehole, and I dropped back to the floor in a spasm. I fucking hate tasers. Whilst incapacitated, I was tossed around as those who could still walk cuffed my hands and legs. I heard Eustace swearing like he¡¯d stubbed his toe. Someone else was calling an ambulance while another nudged me with their foot. I growled. ¡°Touch me again, and I¡¯ll hunt you down and break every bone in your body.¡± ¡°You¡¯re back with us then.¡± Eustace asked, crouching down beside me. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you, Earl? You shouldn¡¯t be allowed to roam free, should you?¡± ¡°Not when the world is full of pussies like you,¡± I spat. ¡°Sergeant Graham and two of the five officers I brought have to be taken to hospital. Doesn¡¯t that concern you?¡± ¡°I got the cameras. You all broke in without a warrant. Baldy threw the first punch, pal. I got nothing to worry about. It¡¯s you lot that need to be worried.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll wipe the cameras if we need to. I actually meant that you seriously hurt three people who had only come to ask for help. You tried to kill Sergeant Graham. We all saw it. Hell, it¡¯s the only reason the others jumped in. Now you¡¯ve possibly blinded one of them and broke the leg of another. These men have families. Do you feel nothing?¡± I laughed as best as I could through my own bloody face. Probably more of a gurgle. ¡°I told you all to leave. It was your choice, not mine. I¡¯d have killed you all if I could¡¯ve.¡± Eustace didn¡¯t speak for a while, so I just concentrated on breathing past all of the blood. ¡°I couldn¡¯t stand watching you fight, you know. The disappointment. Every single title defense, I prayed you¡¯d be better. Cleaner. You were so damn talented. Every fighter you faced, you had in your pocket from round one. Why could you not be happy with winning? Why did you take every single fight too far?¡± I gurgled some more and coughed out some blood and a tooth. Through bleary eyes, I could see him shaking his head. ¡°I could never understand it. Until now.¡± ¡°Whoopedy fucking do for you. I hadn¡¯t realized I was so complex.¡± Something sharp punctured my neck as I spoke. My words got slower with each one. Eustace was crouching down in front of me now. ¡°I actually thought you were, Earl. But¡­ I was wrong. You¡¯re a goddamn animal. Lucky for you, that¡¯s exactly what we need.¡± Chapter 8- Earl I came around angry. Where the fuck am I? I screamed. ¡°Mmm mm murgh mm mm,¡± was all I managed. ¡°Settle down, Earl. You¡¯re safe.¡± It was Eustace¡¯s voice. He was somewhere to my side. We were in a concrete cell, and the smell of disinfectant told me that the last resident didn¡¯t leave here in the best of shape. ¡°Despite the damage you did to my men, none of them died. So while they¡¯ll all despise you forever, you¡¯re not in any trouble for that. You¡¯ll no doubt be glad to know.¡± ¡°Trespass!¡± I managed to get out. My mouth slowly starting to wake up with the rest of me. ¡°Let mm go. Press chargems.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got a file on you longer than Seargeant Graham¡¯s arm. You try to go down that road and you¡¯ll¡­ Ah, who am I kidding.¡± He walked around to the front of me and leaned against the wall opposite. ¡°The only way you¡¯re getting out of this is by doing exactly what I came to talk to you about.¡± ¡°Baldy didn¡¯t beat me. I¡¯m not interested.¡± The tired sergeant rubbed black ringed eyes. ¡°He did beat you. You¡¯re here, aren¡¯t you?¡± I tried to rub my face, like he had. But my hands were cuffed to the chair. I missed what he said next because all I wanted to do was rub my goddamn face and I couldn¡¯t. I tested the cuffs. They wouldn¡¯t break, but the bed might. Around a minute later, the stupidly strong bed still hadn¡¯t broken, but the room had filled with armed soldiers, all pointing guns at me. ¡°Earl. Calm down,¡± Eustace said. I got the feeling it wasn¡¯t for the first time. I glared at him. ¡°Somebody better get these cuffs off me, or rub my goddamn face now!¡± That gave them all pause. Far too long a pause. ¡°Well?¡± I glared at Eustace. ¡°I take it you¡¯re not letting me free, so rub my fucking face.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not rubbing your face, Earl.¡± ¡°Then I¡¯ll die before I listen to another word that comes out of your mouth. And I¡¯ll never do what you want me to do.¡± I started singing my own rendition of the Final Countdown at the top of my voice. He rubbed his face again, the lucky bastard. ¡°Even to save your brother?¡± ¡°WILL THINGS NEVER BEEE THIS LAME AGAIN! FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, DO, DO. IT¡¯S THE FINAL¡­¡± ¡°Everyone out,¡± Eustace shouted, interrupting the best part of my Europe-inspired freestyle. Soon there was only me and him left in the room again. ¡°Goddamn it, Earl. Why are you such a prick? If I take off the cuffs, will you refrain from attacking me?¡± I eyed him for a few long seconds. ¡°What do you want?¡± My change of subject put him off guard, and he stammered, unable to spit it out after all this time trying. ¡°Look, Eustace.¡± ¡°Seargent Eustace.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not my sergeant, Eustace. But let¡¯s not pissfart about with that conversation. I want to go back to my life. I was happy and I wasn¡¯t hurting anyone.¡± ¡°You call that a life? Hiding away from the world in a cabin?¡± ¡°I do. Perfect life for me. Away from all of you lot.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going back, Earl. Not unless you do something for us.¡± He looked up at a camera in the corner of the room. I got the sense that someone was speaking to him in the earpiece he wore. He nodded. But not to me, then sighed. ¡°This is going to sound farfetched, but approximately every fifty years, an anomaly occurs in Jordan. It¡¯s around an area called Ayn Gazal. You heard of it?¡± ¡°Cut to the chase, Eustace. I¡¯m getting bored.¡± ¡°It¡¯s one of the earliest locations of human civilization. Every fifty years, an anomaly appears and strange creatures come through and take whoever is around. We set up a base this time in preparation for their arrival. The creatures killed or captured everyone from that base. They carried those alive through the anomaly.¡± I frowned. ¡°Is this some kind of joke?¡± If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°It most certainly isn¡¯t, Earl. Your brother, Adam, was one of the first taken. We don¡¯t know exactly how long this anomaly stays open apart from some¡­ questionable information from fifty years ago when it last happened. We¡¯re working on it being open for two months. It¡¯s been open for three weeks now.¡± ¡°Fascinating.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you think so. Because you¡¯re going through it.¡± ¡°Me? You¡¯re the army. Why the hell do you need to send me through?¡± ¡°Because we¡¯re not allowed to send any more of our troops to the area. They don¡¯t come back.¡± His face was pained as he spoke. I guessed he¡¯d lost people he knew well. ¡°Believe me, we¡¯ve tried. We¡¯ve sent special forces in. The US have sent some of their best people. Our weapons don¡¯t hurt the creatures.¡± I shook my head. ¡°So hang on a minute. Your weapons don¡¯t do shit. You won¡¯t send any more soldiers to die. But you want to send me? What exactly the fuck am I supposed to do?¡± ¡°Use your wits to find out what¡¯s going on. If we can just get a glimpse of the other side, then we can act.¡± ¡°Again, why me? Something doesn¡¯t add up here.¡± ¡°For god¡¯s sake Earl, we need people who won¡¯t be missed. You won¡¯t be alone. You¡¯ll be going through with a mercenary team. All ex-soldiers, all¡­¡± I felt the pause. My hackles rose. ¡°All what?¡± He looked up to the camera again, then back at me. ¡°All ex-criminals.¡± ¡°Yeah. No thanks. You already got Adam killed, now you want to wipe out the Henshaw bloodline altogether?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t think Adam is dead. We think they want our strongest people.¡± ¡°You genuinely think he¡¯s alive?¡± ¡°We do. There¡¯s no other reason for these things to go to such lengths just to kill. All of our top people agree. We¡¯re being used for something. Get us some information. Any information. Then we have a chance at getting your brother back. And everyone else.¡± I wrestled with the choice, or lack thereof. I wasn¡¯t really feeling it. Of course, I wanted to rescue my baby brother, but this sounded like suicide. ¡°I¡¯d say yes. But the desert doesn¡¯t agree with me. If it was anywhere else but Jordan, I¡¯d go.¡± Eustace smirked. It was the first time I¡¯d seen humor from him. ¡°You¡¯re already in Jordan, Earl. All we need to do is get you equipped and send you through.¡± I felt my anger surge again. ¡°You fucking what?¡± ¡°Yes or no?¡± ¡°Hell no!¡± He shrugged and left the room, leaving me in solitude. I spent the next ten minutes trying to break free of the bed. I didn¡¯t stop even when bodies entered the room again. Nor when I felt a sharp stab to the neck and my strength seeped away. The next thing I saw was dust and sand. I was face down on the ground and it was hotter than a sumo¡¯s arse crack. Groggy still, it took me a moment to realize that my arms and legs were free. I clambered into a sitting position when the sound of gunfire came to me. ¡°Christ almighty,¡± I murmured, trying to push myself to my knees. The bastards dumped me in the desert. Through the shitty old ruins, I saw camouflaged men running away from something. The mercenaries, I assumed. Against some goddamned monster that bullets don¡¯t hurt, and here I am with no fucking weapons at all. That¡¯s when I noticed the pistol. ¡°Thanks, Eustace, you wanker. A friggin pistol.¡± I still picked it up. It might come in handy. One of the retreating mercenaries was heading in my direction, screaming at me to run. I shot him in the knee. Maybe whatever was chasing him would be happy enough to catch him and leave me alone. I still snatched up his rifle. Just in case. Then I set off away from the danger zone. After a minute of steady jogging, the screaming of the mercenary whose rifle I¡¯d borrowed cut off. Tempting as it was to look back, I increased my pace a little more and kept my ears peeled for any sounds out of the ordinary. For a short while, there was nothing obvious, and I was pretty sure I¡¯d dodged an awful situation with my quick thinking. Of course, according to Sod¡¯s law, that¡¯s when an almighty thunk landed behind me. I spun and fired. I didn¡¯t have to worry about if it was friend or foe as I didn¡¯t have any friends. Shoot first, ask questions later¡ªthat was the motto of the day. It was a good choice. A huge, black armored lump of headfuckery had landed a few meters away. Huge shield and mace in hands, it was coming for me fast. I opened fire again, aiming its crotch, working on the assumption that even if I had impenetrable armor, I wouldn¡¯t be okay with being shot in the dick ten times a second. Turns out, I was right. The mountain of armor staggered and moved his shield to protect his family jewels. Perfection! It meant I could slip to his left, use the blind spot the shield created and then¡­ I didn¡¯t have a clue, but I¡¯d work it out once I was there. I kept firing until he was close enough to make my move, and then I pounced to his left. The bastard moved fast and surprised me by lashing out with the shield, catching my back as I jumped. I dropped and rolled in the dust, coming to my feet. A move that was actually helped with the extra momentum he provided, and gave me access to his back as he turned. I used the ridges on his armor to climb up to his head. It was like riding a bucking bronco, and by the time I got into position, I was blowing out of my arse regretting how much I¡¯d let myself go. I managed to wriggle my fingers under his helmet, but just as I was about to remove it, the bastard freaked out. He threw himself on the ground head first. Or should I say, me first. Crushed between his head and the ground, my ragged breathing got a lot worse. ¡°Get off me, ya lunatic! Who head dives the ground?¡± He pinned me with an impossibly strong hand before lifting his head away. A rumbling noise came from his helmet. Could have been speaking, could have been choking. I really had no idea, and I was too busy thrashing like an eel to really focus. He rumbled some more before he gave up on me understanding, and flicked me in the head with an armored finger the size of a fist. As hard as this was to admit, the fight went out of me. Not unconscious, but not a kick in the arse off. Bright lights fluttered across my eyes, and I couldn¡¯t hold a thought in my mind. When the disorientation cleared, I found myself pinned to the big fella¡¯s side, his immovable arm wrapped around my waist. Ahead of us was a swirling blue light. I ignored that and focused on the knife in the compartment on his thigh. Ever so delicately, I slid it out. Guns might be worthless, but I bet their own weapons would hurt them if I could get through to flesh. In the meantime, I was stumped on where to put the damn thing. It was razor sharp, and I had limited availability. I had to settle for the pocket of my sweatpants, slicing through the lining so that the blade sat against the leg and the handle remained in the pocket. Chapter 9 – Earl The other side of the anomaly was not as bad as I expected. For a start, it was a damn sight cooler. We entered a stone-built hall that had a few other men in there, mercenaries with the same uniform as the bloke I¡¯d shot. All bloody, all depressed, but all still alive. Some people just didn¡¯t know when to count their fucking blessings. At the other end of the world stood a creature like nothing I¡¯d ever seen before. Massive, with dirty white skin and a gray beard styled into spikes. He spoke to the metal mass carrying me, and though I didn¡¯t have a clue what he¡¯d said, my carrier tensed up. The big guy at the end of the hall seemed satisfied and beckoned another creature that was actually kinda hot into the room. She basically looked like a human, but smaller, with pointed ears, and purple-colored skin. I was a connoisseur of all skin colors, but I¡¯d never had purple before. Nor with yellow eyes. Of all the options in the room though, she was definitely the most promising. I reconsidered my stance when her hands glowed and another anomaly opened up. Suddenly, all the other creatures in the hall were shouting, herding the mercs into the swirling light. I was carried over too, and while part of me wanted to fight, another part of me was intrigued by what was on the other side, and I let myself be thrown through. Maybe Adam would be there. Adam wasn¡¯t there. There was plenty of pain, though. The knife in my pocket cut a deep gash in my thigh that got worse as I half-bounced, half-rolled into the corner of a cell. As the anomaly disappeared, we were left alone. The purple woman never came through after us, which was disappointing, but not my most pressing concern. Blood was pissing out of my leg, and I gave myself half an hour at best to live. It was a purely made up amount of time, but I definitely needed to do something. My first move was to hide the knife underneath me, the next move was to put pressure on the wound. The others ignored me, whispering amongst themselves. I heard Semtex mentioned and cover. Why was whispering so bloody annoying? I tried to shout at them to shut up, but only a tired moan came out. ¡°Shut the fuck up, or talk normal,¡± someone replied. Another suggested that they just slash my throat. They were vetoed which came as a disappointment. I was definitely dying, but while I still had blood in my body, I reckoned I could still take one of them out with me. Denied a last moment of glory, I lamented. Seemed they¡¯d lost interest in me again, and a minute later, I heard them rustling around like little rats. A shout of, ¡°Ready!¡± was followed by the ground trembling. Dust spread across the cell. ¡°Didn¡¯t bloody touch the bars,¡± someone complained. I figured the explosive not working was the least of their problems as two of the ugliest motherfuckers I¡¯d ever laid eyes on appeared at the bars. Not as tall as the things that had taken us from Earth, but twice as wide and their faces weren¡¯t covered by helmets. They had deep furrowed brows, and their mouths had uncomfortable looking tusks jutting out. Their skin was a blotchy, grayish-green and rough like a rhino or some shit. My first thought was that Be-bob and Rocksteady had had a love child and gave us a Be-Steady. There was a chance I was delirious from blood loss. When one of them stepped through the bars as if they weren¡¯t even there, I was further convinced I was losing my grip on reality. He leveled a spear and spoke in horrible English. ¡°No silly weapons. One chance only. We kill all ones in here.¡± ¡°What do you want from us?¡± someone asked again. My vision had gone blurry, my hearing fuzzy, and if the question was answered I missed it. I must have blacked out because the next instant found my head on the hard stone and the guards nowhere to be seen. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The others were sitting around the edges of the cell looking dejected and¡­ I spasmed in a weak fit of shock. One of them was standing above me. How the hell had I missed that? With a growl, I lashed out with a fist, but my arm felt like a hundred-pound plate was strapped to it. My effort landed on the ground next to my head. A gentle voice spoke close by, ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll last long here from the sounds of it. But I can¡¯t just watch you bleed-out and not do anything to help.¡± I couldn¡¯t reply, even though I wanted to. Especially when he started pulling my trousers down. No! Not like this, I raged. Rage didn¡¯t help. My body was as flat as a pancake, and I had nothing left to give. ¡°Shit. This is bad,¡± were the last words I heard. I was all bandaged up and weak as a newborn kitten when I returned to the land of the living. The voices of the mercenaries talked quietly amongst themselves. One of them rushed over. ¡°How¡¯re you doing, Earl?¡± ¡°Urgh.¡± He chuckled lightly. ¡°I bet. I got you stitched up good, and given time, it should heal well. Nasty scar is all.¡± I grunted. ¡°You think you could take a drink of this?¡± ¡°Just leave the wanker, Nick. Don¡¯t waste supplies on him, he¡¯s done.¡± Nick ignored the voice and raised a bottle to my lips. My mouth wasn¡¯t working too well, and some sloshed over my face and dribbled down my chin. I still tried to gulp what I could and felt better immediately. Evidently not that much better. The next thing I knew was the sounds of shouting waking me. ¡°Up, Up, Up,¡± the massive Be-Steady shouted. There were four of them this time, already in the cell and repeating the command to get up. My vision had cleared. I was weak, but I could just about push myself into a sitting position. The others had all lined up as instructed by the guards. One of them clomped over to me, and a fat, gray finger poked my chest. ¡°You not good to fight. Waste of units. Stand or die.¡± Nick spoke up from their line, ¡°He¡¯s recovering fast. Give him a chance. I can get him on his feet in a day.¡± ¡°You got till end of line. He go last.¡± His chest heaved a few times, and a weird gasping sound came from his tusked mouth. Apparently, he was laughing. ¡°You go second last. Live a little longer?¡± I saw the scowls of the others at Nick, as if he¡¯d somehow sent them to their deaths himself. One of the other guards prodded the last in the line on the far side of the cell. He was a tall, wiry merc with a scraggly beard. ¡°You first. Come.¡± A chunky, gray hand landed on his shoulder, and Scraggly Beard was taken from the cell. Once we were alone, Nick came over to me again. He had a pouch of rations which he thrust in my face. ¡°You need to eat. It might not help but¡­ you should eat.¡± I took the pouch and pulled out a small, brown bar. ¡°The hell is this?¡± I asked, taking a whiff. It wasn¡¯t great. ¡°Pemmican,¡± he said with a little pride. ¡°Eat it. It has what you need.¡± He obviously wasn¡¯t trying to kill me, so I started nibbling at the bar. A few seconds later, it was gone. I looked into the man¡¯s face. I hadn¡¯t really took it in before. Nothing special. Medium height and build. Short, brown hair and brown eyes. Looked fit and healthy, but not dangerous. ¡°Damn, that was way nicer than it had any right to be. I don¡¯t like many people, but you¡¯re all right, Nick.¡± ¡°Ex-army medic. Just doing my job.¡± The mention of the army soured the conversation, and I prodded tenderly at my leg to change the subject. ¡°It¡¯s a mess for sure. Clean wound but deep, and thankfully just missed the big artery, or you¡¯d have been toast.¡± ¡°Lucky me, eh?¡± I said, looking around the cell. He didn¡¯t reply. Instead, he looked around the cell with me, then looked back to my leg. ¡°You want to test standing? See if you¡¯ll be able to walk when they come for you?¡± I shook my head, thinking about the knife and unveiling it too early. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll give it till the last possible minute. I¡¯ll rest up till it¡¯s my turn to do whatever we¡¯re being taken to do.¡± As if on cue, the heavy footfalls of the guards echoed down the stone corridor. They stopped at our cell, and one of the four stepped through and pointed at another of the men. Shorter than me, but wider than a barn door. Never nice to fight. Little brick shithouses were always awkward. The combination of speed and limbs that seemed to hold more power because of their smaller leverage points. Looked like a mean piece of shit as well. One of the other mercs stepped forward, getting in his face. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He looked tough apart from the silver hair. It didn¡¯t look right. He couldn¡¯t have been more than forty. ¡°Where¡¯s Caleb, you bastards?¡± The guard backhanded him. The power of the blow should have killed the fella, but he moved fast, and while he was never avoiding the blow, he took some of the deadly power out of the attack with his reactions. He landed in a pile, but without broken bones. By the time he got back up, raging at the injustice, the little shithouse had already been led off. I took the silver-haired guy for the leader, and his outrage was a bonus as I used the distraction to rake about for the knife. Grim satisfaction flooded me as my hand landed on the blade. Carefully, I finger-danced along it until I reached the hilt, managing to avoid the horribly sharp edge. Once I had a decent grip on the hilt, I tried to slide it up the sleeve of my hoody. Possibly a mistake after the absolute cock up I had made of having it in my pocket, but if I was going to survive whatever came next, I reckoned I¡¯d need it. Chapter 10 - Earl The leader was taken next. He argued, he cursed, but he went with the dignity of a genuinely tough man. I learned his name, Maddock. I didn¡¯t like him, but I respected the aggression. After the shithouse didn¡¯t return, I assumed no one would be coming back. So when the guards returned carrying Maddock, I was surprised. If I wanted any answers, however, I¡¯d have to wait. The scowling bastard looked like he¡¯d been dragged through a hedge of metal thorns backwards, then dropped from a great height. He had a broken arm, his left eye was swollen shut, and there was a nasty wound in his chest. They dropped him with zero shits given to his wellbeing, and took another of the mercenaries. Another big fella with black hair, thick stubble, and a thicker Italian accent. He roared even more loudly than Maddock, but it was all bluster. He wasn¡¯t half as hard as their leader. You learned to spot the signs after years of violence. Maddock was furious¡ªthis fella was shitting himself and trying to mask it with big words and a louder voice. The medic, Nick, had rushed over to Maddock and started fussing with him. ¡°Not as bad as I first thought,¡± he said, inspecting the wound on his chest first. ¡°They did something to me after I won the fight,¡± Maddock groaned. ¡°Dunno what it was, but it stopped me dying.¡± ¡°Fight?¡± Nick said, barely listening as he tenderly probed the broken arm. But I was listening. Mainly for information, but he had also said my favorite word of all. Fight! ¡°They took me to an arena. Made me battle an alien to the death.¡± He broke into a fit of hacking coughs which ended in him spitting out blood. ¡°Some little skinny bastard with sharp claws. He moved faster than anyone has any right too. Jumped about like a grasshopper on speed. Couldn¡¯t land a blow on him.¡± ¡°How did you win, then?¡± an average-sized man asked. He had a ratty ponytail, and a scar around his neck that spoke of a failed hanging attempt at some point in his past. Maddock was in pain, and didn¡¯t answer. Understandable, all things considered, but I reckoned there was more to it. We had to wait a few long seconds while he balanced out his ragged breaths. The answer wasn¡¯t worth waiting for. ¡°I played dead. Waited for the little shit to get close, then attacked.¡± ¡°That worked?¡± the same man asked. ¡°Of course it fucking worked. I¡¯m back here, aren¡¯t I? Lucky thing too. The announcer almost called it. My opponent was dancing about in victory and came too close. I managed to grab one of his scrawny legs and break it. Then I pulled him to the floor and finished him off. Ground and pound.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. There was a round of approving grunts from the others. I lay back disappointed. I was happy to use any tactic to win, that much was true, but I wasn¡¯t interested in hearing about someone playing dead. Instead, I dozed and tried to recover as much strength as I could before my time came. I was only vaguely aware of the comings and goings, but before long, only Maddock, Nick, and myself were left in the cell. I beckoned Nick over. It was his turn next, then mine, so this was my last chance if I needed any help. He came over with a strained smile on his face. ¡°Yeah, Earl?¡± ¡°Can I borrow some bandages? I need to strap my leg up a little more if I¡¯m gonna be able to walk.¡± ¡°You gonna give me them back afterwards, huh?¡± he said it with so little humor that I didn¡¯t think it qualified as a joke. ¡°I am. As long as you survive.¡± He laughed at that. ¡°I think you¡¯d need to survive too, Earl, and with your leg in the condition it¡¯s in, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a promise you can make.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a promise. It¡¯s a fact.¡± For some reason, the light seemed to fade from his eyes at my words. His doubt didn¡¯t affect me, especially once he pulled out the bandages. ¡°I¡¯ll rework them for you. Where¡¯s the pain or weakness most affecting you?¡± I put my hand out. ¡°Nah. I¡¯ll do it myself. I¡¯ve propped myself up more than once.¡± He was so preoccupied with his impending doom that he handed the two rolls over without much trouble. When the guards came for Nick, they didn¡¯t return with the scar neck, ponytail merc. Which meant so far that only Maddock had survived his fight as far as I knew. As Nick was led away from the cell, he looked back at Maddock. They really seemed to respect the asshole. Maddock, on the other hand, rolled away to face the wall, making it clear that he had nothing to say either. That was good. His ignorance was my gain, and I still had a job to do. Trying to stay as quiet as possible, I tied the knife to the back of my left hand with some of the bandage. When my hand was held normally, there was no sign of the blade. When I clench my fist, about a quarter inch cut through the bandage, past my knuckles. Once it was set in place, I carefully clawed my way up to a standing position. It would have been hard enough using both hands, but I only had my right available with the knife bound. After a minute of curses and struggling, I made it up. Back against the cell wall, I took a moment find my balance. Maddock still hadn¡¯t looked over, which was good. I hated people watching me. What I did was nobody¡¯s business. And what I had to do was strap my leg up and stop the flex of movement. Last thing I needed was for it to open back up. I stretched out my arms, feeling weak but glad I was back up and ready for when the clomping feet returned. When they did, they carried Nick with them. That was a surprise. I honestly didn¡¯t think he¡¯d have it in him. As his battered body was thrown in like a sweaty t-shirt in the laundry, the guard closest pointed at me. ¡°You next.¡± My instincts screamed to kill them both. My instincts were like that. What little sense I had suggested the opponent I was about to face was probably weaker than these two and less likely to earn me a death penalty. So, against my instincts, I let them lead me out of the cell without trouble. We walked through a complex of stone hallways for way longer than I was happy with. My leg was burning like hell, and the exertion of limping along with it was tiring me out. The relief I felt when we approached a set of huge double doors that brought our journey to an end was immense. No more walking, just waiting and fighting. I could hear the low hum of conversation beyond, and basked in the sound and the light that streamed in through the cracks around the door. A grin tugged at my lips as the doors slowly opened. It turned into a full smile as I took in my huge, bare-chested opponent across a muddy circle. It was time to kill. Chapter 11 Earl I hobbled out under the eyes of a sparse and near-silent crowd, and slowly made my way across the arena. The size difference between me and my opponent became more obvious the closer I got, to the point that I doubted the truth of my own eyes. The ugly motherfucker must have been nine feet tall! His skin was a sickly shade of yellow and green that had a scaly look to it. His features were too big, even for his size. A massive nose, huge eyes, and a thick-lipped mouth. What really caught my attention were the claws. Five inches long at least. If he caught me sweet with those, I was done. A voice boomed across the arena. I couldn¡¯t understand a word of it, so I focused on my playmate. ¡°Look at the size of you, ya big fucker. That¡¯s a whole lot of dying you¡¯re gonna have to do.¡± Whether he understood or not was irrelevant. I just liked to shit talk a bit before I got to work. The announcer shouted something loud and isolated. If I was a betting man, I¡¯d have put my money on the word meaning fight! As the crowd roared, the giant fella burst into motion. He looked at me like a wolf looked at an injured rabbit, and the speed he charged showed that he wasn¡¯t messing around. I set myself in position and waited, watching his movements and trying to come up with a strategy and gauge his movements. He wasn¡¯t actually that fast. It was more an illusion created from his size. Sure, he closed the distance quickly enough, but it was easy enough to side step and sway away from his groping hand. My first trainer had always said that effective fighting was measured in inches not feet. The old tyrant got that much right at least. The giant struggled to turn with the momentum he¡¯d picked up, and if I could¡¯ve moved properly, I¡¯d have gone after him. Sadly, for this fight, he¡¯d have to do most of the legwork. I set myself again, and again he came. His charge was more measured this time, and when he reached me, he lashed out with a one-two combination of open-handed swipes, looking to get his claws into me. His height worked against him, and I ducked under both strikes and returned a sharp left of my own which brought the knife to bear. The blade slashed a deep gouge in his tough, scaly skin, and while he screamed in pain, it wasn¡¯t close to a telling blow. His next tactic was to lunge at me, trying to smother me with his body and bear me to the ground where he could keep me still and finish me off. I spun away on my good leg, took an elbow to the face and sprawled to the ground just to the right of where he landed. He moved fast, desperately trying to slap me into the ground with an outstretched hand. I rolled away and regained my feet. Whatever this thing was, he wasn¡¯t a great fighter. Just massive and incredibly strong. But he was also tired, and I guessed he¡¯d probably had a rough ride leading up to this fight as well. Now that I had thought about it, I noticed the signs. The desperation in his movements, the dark rings around his eyes. Sure, they could have been a racial feature, but I didn¡¯t think so. The whites of his eyes were red too. I took it for him being an angry bastard, now I wondered as I backed off. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He got back to his feet and lunged at me again. This time, he had his arms out wide so as not to give me much space to work with. Caught wrong-footed, I had to use my injured left leg to escape. I sprang away like wet cardboard, which is to say, I was stuck to the floor and collapsed as the big bastard landed on top of me. It was a horrible position to end up in, but there was a saving grace. The fetid, sweaty giant hadn¡¯t expected me to fuck up so badly either, and he reached out to where we both thought I¡¯d land. Only a second to play with while his mind caught up, but that was plenty of time to stab the ever-loving shit out of his face with my bladed left fist. He screamed like a stuck pig and rolled off me like he¡¯d landed on a fire pit. My leg was roaring in agony and pouring with blood once again. There was no way I was getting back to my feet, so if I let him off the hook now, I was screwed. In a spasming, full-body flip flop¡ªthe kind you¡¯d expect from a freshly caught fish as it was pulled onto a boat¡ªI managed to close the gap enough to grab some of his lank, greasy hair. That caused him to panic even more, and he pulled away faster, hoisting me into the air. It was the wrong move. Like a wasp that just wouldn¡¯t fucking leave you alone, I landed against his face again; only this time, I could reach an eye. I sent a thudding left hook into the bulging orb, burying the knife the full quarter inch of range I¡¯d allowed it. A stinky roar of pain erupted from his mouth, but the damage was done. I pulled back for a second blow, but the knife was pulled free of my bindings by his bloody eyeball. For a split second, I considered pulling it free, then I slammed it deeper in with the palm of my hand just as his hands gripped me. Sharp claws punctured wounds all along my sides, but I still kept palm striking the blade deeper until it reached the hilt. He wobbled unsteadily, his grip slackened, and his arms began to windmill before he staggered and fell. Still holding his hair with my right hand and my knife with my left hand, I managed to land on top of him. As the dust settled, I rived the knife from his ruined, squelching eye socket, dodged an incoming slap by falling out of the way rather than any remaining grace on my behalf, and then plunged the dagger into the side of his unprotected throat. Blood welled out of the wound, but there was plenty more where that came from. Like an out-of-control sewing machine, I butchered his throat and upper chest. A loud sound boomed out around the arena, but I ignored it. I would deal with whatever else came after this lump of leather clad shit had stopped twitching. Stab. Punch. Stab. I might have even bitten his throat at one point, but my righteous fury was brought to an end when a hand landed on my shoulder. I turned as fast as I could, which wasn¡¯t very fast considering the mess I was in, and snarled ready to kill the owner of the hand. ¡°It is over. You win, Earther.¡± I tried to focus through the blood in my eyes, but all I could really make out was six glowing lights. I wiped at my face and blinked a few times before I could make out six of the Be-Steady guards surrounding me, all with energy-coated spears leveled at me. The arena was eerily silent, which was unusual. I was normally booed, cursed, or screamed at. Somebody kicked me. ¡°How you get hold of an Unalaran Hunter¡¯s knife?¡± ¡°Took it,¡± I answered, with a bloody grin as I began to fade out of consciousness. A bolt of energy hit me. Not an attack. I actually felt a little better. One of them spoke again, ¡°Not took. Must be given. Explain this, Earther. Who give?¡± ¡°Took,¡± I said again. The guard scowled. ¡°Up. You walk from arena, or I kill you where you lie. Already you have broken rules.¡± ¡°Rules?¡± I asked, but didn¡¯t move. He thrust his spear so that it stopped an inch from my nose. ¡°Up.¡± From whatever the blast was that they hit me with, I did actually feel a lot better. Tired, and lacking a lot of blood. I wasn¡¯t exactly ready to run a mile, but I could stand. Most of my anger was gone for the moment, so I batted his spear away, and forced myself to my feet, feeling pretty pleased with myself. Chapter 12- Adam Time was hard to keep track of in the torture box, but I had to try. Had to know how long was left before the portal to Earth snapped shut, leaving me stranded here. Not that I had any hopes of escaping this cell. There wasn¡¯t a seam or a ridge anywhere on its six surfaces. I was either going to die here or be removed by the people who put me here. I was fifty-fifty on either outcome. My rough estimate was twelve days so far. As for how I got to that number, well, that was a story all of its own. For the first nine days, my emotions were a rollercoaster. I laughed, I wept¡­ I mainly wept. I rocked back and forth and gibbered like a lunatic. So with all that going on, I hadn¡¯t even noticed the torture was growing less intense with each level of Toughness I gained. Not till that ninth day when I hit level 16 in the stat and reached level 14 overall. The torture had me spasming on the floor and perhaps a little drool still spilled out, but the change was notable. At first, I thought they had weakened the intensity until my tortured mind caught up. I was getting stronger! The evidence was clear to feel, and with that realization came a smidgen of hope that blossomed in the scraped out husk I¡¯d become. With hope came counting. Lots of counting. First, I counted how long the torture lasted. Then I counted how long the rest phase was. In a rare stroke of luck for my mathematics, the periods were consistent. Ninety minutes of torture followed by two hundred minutes of rest. Armed with that knowledge, I counted back over how many rounds that I could remember suffering. Sure, it wasn¡¯t foolproof, but I was confident I was close. Today saw another jump in Toughness to Level 17. The increase made me feel different. Somehow more whole, and while I was still on the edge of sanity, I felt myself looking forward to the next bout of torture. How much better could I handle it now? It came in a predictable wave. This time though, the torture found me on my feet and I resolved to stay there for the duration of the ninety minutes. I roared as it swept over me. ¡°Come on, you bastards! You won¡¯t break me that easy!¡± I held firm, jaw clenched after my defiant chant. It was deeply unpleasant, but far from unbearable. Like having a nasty case of pins and needles rather than a body-wracking, bone-charring electric shock. I normally couldn¡¯t hold a thought in my head beyond counting during the ordeal. This time, I could, and they weren¡¯t happy thoughts. Twelve days with no food. No water. No contact with anyone. These Archons for all their perfect appearance were total, utter bastards. As the ninety minutes came to an end, I roared my jaw loose from its clenched position. ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got! Your torture box doesn¡¯t hurt me anymore.¡± I booted the wall at the point where I thought the two Archons had left. Nothing happened, but filled with the euphoria of defeating their torture, I was far from finished. ¡°You¡¯re wasting all our time now! Might as well just send me home.¡± ¡°You should forget about your home, Earther. You belong to House Garazal now.¡± I damned near jumped out of my skin as the words came from everywhere at once. ¡°When can I leave?¡± The voice didn¡¯t answer, but they had another surprise in store for me. Despite there being no visible change to the surface of the ceiling, it began raining on me. Warm, clean water that began to build in power until it resembled a good electric shower back home. ¡°Is this supposed to be a joke!¡± I yelled into the air. No answer, of course. I stood sullenly in the deluge, starving, furious, and now drenched. I probably should have taken the chance to clean up a bit, but I didn¡¯t. I stood and stared at the section of wall that I thought the door had been. When the water finally stopped, an unbearably hot hurricane swept around the room, drying me with alarming speed and discomfort. ¡°You absolute wankers,¡± I screamed, but the words were lost in the howling torrent along with my breath. As the winds died down, a door appeared in the wall to my right. Fuck. Got it wrong. I spun as it slid open to admit a neutral-faced Warden Anso. He came to a stop a few paces away and looked me up and down like a prize pig ready for slaughter. ¡°You did well to endure the Ennochamber, Earther. Come, this form of training has reached its optimal usefulness. We will only get diminishing returns now.¡± I lunged at him, uncaring of the consequences. He side-stepped faster than my eyes could follow, and I face-planted the ground. ¡°You should probably work on your speed in the coming days. That was pitiful.¡± I jumped back up to my feet, fists clenched, red-faced and white-knuckled as I turned on him. ¡°You just dump me in here without any food or water or any idea when I¡¯d leave again, and you come in here like nothing happened!¡± He shook his head. ¡°What exactly do you think is happening here, Earther? You are a slave. Bought and sold. You get what you are given, and you do as you are told. There is a pathway to freedom in the service of House Garazal, but that path is narrow, and you have only just set your feet upon it. Now, remain silent unless spoken too. I am being lenient as no one is watching, and I do have a modicum of sympathy for your situation. However, there are rules and etiquette here that you really must follow.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I mouthed wordlessly, and he seemed satisfied with the response and left the room. ¡°Come with me. You have a choice to make.¡± I wanted to reply. I had so much anger and injustice to vent. Hell, I wanted to say something just to soothe my own ego. Instead, I nodded like a quiet kid on his first day of school and followed. Outside the box, I discovered we were in a cavernous, dome-shaped space. It was empty apart from a few more marble boxes which formed a cluster in the center. The Warden didn¡¯t wait for me to look around in wonder, marching across the smooth stone floor like he was late for his dinner, heels clicking a steady beat with each step. I hurried after him, sandals flapping an erratic counterpoint. In my mind, I sang to the tune, Sixty-five days. Sixty-five days. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve got. Only Sixty-five days. An opening in the wall of the dome turned into a long hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. We must have walked for at least twenty minutes before we arrived at a guarded door. The two Archons wore incredible golden armor, looking like elves from high fantasy. They opened the doors as we approached, and both saluted the Warden as we passed. The interaction got me wondering just how big a deal the arrogant Archon Warden was. He was certainly the highest leveled being I¡¯d seen so far. Then those thoughts flittered away as the bright sunlight blinded me and the sounds of heavy work filled my ears. We¡¯d emerged up the side of a cliff face, maybe thirty feet from the ground. Behind us loomed a single solitary mountain with a snow-covered spire. In front of us, at the bottom of a broad wooden ramp that served as access for the mountain hideaway, was a work camp. There was no heavy machinery beyond the physical labor of those who toiled there, and it looked miserable. It encircled the base of the mountain in each direction for as far as I could see, with the hauling and hammering of stone being the most prevalent activity. It was separated from a golden farm dotted with people that appeared to be working at a far more sedate pace than those in the mine. The farmland stretched out for a couple of miles before turning to an immense forest that went on for as far as the eye can see. Like the farmland, I saw people working, hauling logs on something like a horse-drawn cart, though I didn¡¯t recognize the animal that was pulling it. The Warden held his arms out to gesture at the scene. ¡°This is where you will further develop your abilities. Hard labor does wonders for the constitution. You get to train twelve hours a day, every day. And! The harder you work, the greater the rewards for both you and House of Garazal. The only question left is where do you want to work? Wood, food, or stone?¡± I let his words sink in, more than a little confused. ¡°I was of the impression that I¡¯d be training as a warrior?¡± I omitted the mage part as it sounded stupid to say out loud, even if the words Warrior Mage still floated around my head. In the torture chamber, I¡¯d fantasized about returning to Earth all powerful. That I¡¯d go find Earl, give him a piece of my mind, then beat the shit out of him like he¡¯d done to me so many times before. Once he was a bloody lump on the floor, I¡¯d shoot a fucking fireball right up his arse. Then I¡¯d heal him so that he didn¡¯t die, but I¡¯d stand over him as I did it so that there was no mistake where he stood with me now. ¡°This is Stage 2 training for weakling slaves,¡± Anso said, snapping me from my fantasy. ¡°You already know how to fight from your world. What you do not have is the strength, speed, and durability to stand against even an average ascended fighter in the Union. So first, we must build those aspects. Now chose your path before I choose for you. This is one of very few opportunities you will have to guide your fate, so I suggest you make the most of it.¡± I scanned the mining camp, fields, and forest again. The forest was a no-brainer, out of the way of everyone. Chopping down trees would keep me fit and agile, and the people I saw hauling the wood looked happy. I looked back over to Anso again. ¡°Which one will help me develop fastest? I assume you have many people training here?¡± ¡°Not that many. Most are just workers or prisoners. The fastest for strength, durability, and thus your overall Toughness is the mine. But no one chooses that. It¡¯s the most deadly, and filled with the criminals I was just speaking of. To be honest, you¡¯re not in that much of a hurry. After this stage, providing you can reach an adequate level, you will be attending the Danan Academy, but their next intake of students is not for another twenty-six cycles. I suggest the forest is probably the best for steady leveling if you want to survive. The farm is safer again, but the potential to increase in level is far lower.¡± The forest did sound good, and if this was a new life choice, I¡¯d definitely go forest. But I wasn¡¯t here for a good time, and I certainly wasn¡¯t going to be here in twenty-six cycles. I ground my teeth before nodding to the bottom of the ramp. ¡°I¡¯ll take the mine.¡± His face showed rare surprise. ¡°Not at all the option I expected you to choose. I imagined you would head to the forest and attempt an escape.¡± ¡°Escape to where?¡± I muttered. ¡°As far as I can tell, I¡¯m a long way from home, and I don¡¯t think hiding in a forest is going to get me back, do you?¡± The perfectly imposing Archon laughed. ¡°You are an interesting specimen, Adam of Earth. Come then, let us make the introduction with your new caretaker.¡± He set off down the ramp, and I followed hot on his heals. ¡°What of Mental Acuity and Harmony? I¡¯ll have no chance to build those up here.¡± ¡°That will come at the academy. I assure you that you will want to be substantially higher in level before arriving there. If you make it that far.¡± I was so involved in the conversation that I hardly realized we had come to a stop outside of a well-built stone cottage. It looked completely out of sorts with the other buildings and shacks in the mine. Anso rapped on the door. A deep, angry voice boomed in answer, ¡°Dinner time. Be gone, or be dead.¡± ¡°Oh Ashin, my dear fellow, is that anyway to welcome a Warden?¡± A chair scrapped. Heavy footfalls padded over a wooden floor at pace. The door swung open to frame a worried face, covered with scars, sitting atop a hugely muscled man. He looked closer to human than Archon, but I suspected that was wrought from a hard life rather than genetics. ¡°Sorry, my lord. I didn¡¯t know it was you.¡± I eyed his identifier. Name: Ashin Porsa Title: Overseer of Minareth Level: 26 Class: Warrior/Tradesman ¡°That is fine, Ashin, I understand. I¡¯m here with a new recruit for you. Believe it or not, he is not a prisoner, but chose to mine.¡± The hulking Overseer eyed me up and down, and did not look impressed. ¡°Toughness?¡± ¡°Twenty. And I need you to make sure it reaches twenty-five in the next twelve cycles.¡± He rubbed his stubbly chin. ¡°Not asking much, are you, my lord?¡± ¡°Nothing I don¡¯t have complete faith in you delivering.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can with him, but I¡¯m not promising anything.¡± Anso nodded. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect you to. Now I really must dash, but please, let me know if he¡¯s any trouble. I¡¯ll want a full report on his behaviors while he¡¯s with you.¡± ¡°Of course, Warden. Full report.¡± And with that, the Warden turned and left the two of us standing on his doorstep. Ashin watched him go until he was out of sight, and only then did his malice-filled eyes drop to me. ¡°I¡¯ve barely got time to shit most days, and now I have to wipe your arse and write a report about it? Can¡¯t say I¡¯m happy about the situation.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m overly happy about the situation either.¡± Then I was sailing through the air, jaw broken, arms flailing. Chapter 13- Adam The fact that I¡¯d already witnessed healing magic didn¡¯t even register as I lay on the hard, stony ground, paralyzed with panic over my flopping jaw. People walked by, but nobody paid me any attention. Would the Overseer really leave me without any medical care? Wincing and sore, I gathered myself and gingerly wriggled up to a sitting position. I hated this new stage of my new life already. To my shame, when a shadow fell over me, I winced and tried to shuffle back before I received another unwarranted attack. I knew one thing. Nobody was getting a free shot like that again. Everyone here was an enemy. ¡°Looks like you need healing,¡± the shadow said. I looked up through watery eyes to see a dark, almost purple-skinned woman stood over me. I couldn¡¯t reply, but within seconds, her hands glowed with the familiar hue of healing, and she touched the side of my head. I didn¡¯t even recoil this time, knowing roughly what to expect and desperate to be healed. The jaw bones knitted together far more slowly than the healing I¡¯d received on Unalar, and I took in the woman¡¯s identifier. Name: Keala Unstele Title: Healer of Minareth Level: 18 Class: Mage ¡°Thank you,¡± I said in a half gasp as she stepped away. ¡°Needn¡¯t thank me, it¡¯s what I¡¯m paid to do. Though not nearly enough, mind you,¡± she scowled. ¡°Now get back to work and try not to break yourself again.¡± She turned to leave, but I shouted after her. ¡°Wait, I have Harmony, which means I can do magic, right?¡± She cast a withering look back over her shoulder. ¡°Everybody has Harmony, fool. Don¡¯t mean you¡¯re a mage.¡± ¡°Ah¡­ right. I was told my base Harmony is high enough to learn.¡± She wasn¡¯t impressed. The irritated look on her face turned sour. ¡°Doubt they¡¯d be putting you in a mine full of stone to quarry if you were any use whatsoever.¡± ¡°I just want to know how to do it. If I learned, could I heal myself?¡± ¡°If you could learn, then of course you could heal yourself. But even if your base Harmony was thirty, you¡¯re working in a mine, not learning to heal. Now get back to work before I report you to Ashin.¡± She walked away a few steps, then looked back. ¡°And look after yourself. I¡¯m busy enough without a clumsy fool like you tottering about.¡± I sighed and then looked around, trying to find some idea of what I was supposed to do now. That¡¯s when my assailant popped his head out the window of his shack and pointed behind me. ¡°Wooden shack¡ªyou¡¯re looking for the charge hand, Eest. He¡¯ll get you started.¡± Then he was gone, vanished into the shadows of his cottage. No apology, no acknowledgment of what he¡¯d just done. I shook my head with disappointment, then turned and headed in the direction he¡¯d said. It didn¡¯t take long to find the hut as it was the center of activity in the area. People were coming and going amidst a lot of shouting. I was ignored as I passed my fellow workers and popped my head in through the blanket door. ¡°I¡¯m looking for Eest.¡± A short, red-faced man with a short, brown beard sitting behind a desk looked up from his scribbling. ¡°Whaddya want?¡± ¡°I¡¯m to start working here. To improve my Toughness.¡± ¡°By the gods. Did you actually choose to come here?¡± I nodded mutely. ¡°You must be soft in the head, lad? Nobody chooses the mines.¡± ¡°I figured it would be the best way to level fast.¡± ¡°Aye, well, there¡¯s some truth in that, up to a point. But start slow and steady, or you¡¯ll be regretting it afore the day is done, and it¡¯s already half done.¡± I grimaced at his words. I¡¯d far rather be out in the forests, but I had a job to do. I had to power up and get into a position to meet people who might be able to help me get home. The fact that I¡¯d already met a mage who could heal gave me a sliver of hope that I¡¯d be able to find somebody who could make a portal. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I promised. ¡°Can¡¯t be any worse than the torture chamber in the mountain.¡± He laughed at that. ¡°Bah! It¡¯s barely a tickle in there! Waste of time and money if you ask me, but no one ever asks me because I¡¯m a Grunir, and Archons don¡¯t give a shit what a Grunir thinks. Unless it¡¯s how to make them even more money, of course, but that¡¯s a rant for another day.¡± I realized that I hadn¡¯t even checked his stats, and took a moment as he blathered on. Name: Eest Morva If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Title: Chargehand of Minareth Level: 20 Class: Tradesman Lower than I expected, but with three points per level and looking like they were all in the durable aspect of Toughness, I didn¡¯t have cause to doubt. ¡°Right,¡± he said, clapping together shovel like hands. ¡°Let¡¯s get you to work. I¡¯ll put you on cart duty to start.¡± He pointed behind me to a bunch of horse-drawn vehicles, though it actually wasn¡¯t a horse at all. It was more like some hybrid between a horse and a bull. ¡°The boys break out the stone, put it in the carts. The carts come up and you transfer the stone into the lorries and send the carts back down.¡± ¡°Do I need to speak to the others to slot in?¡± ¡°No. Go over, start hauling. It¡¯s that simple.¡± That simple, I muttered as I slunk out of the shed. Nothing was ever that simple. But at least I was out of the cell and with some kind of purpose now. And to be fair to him, the Chargehand wasn¡¯t so bad. We didn¡¯t exactly have a heart-to-heart and dish out hugs, but he was simple and straight to the point. And there didn¡¯t seem to be any inbuilt animosity in our interaction like the kind I¡¯d felt from the Overseer. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be simple as I slotted into the gang of workers. From the looks they gave me, you¡¯d think I had just walked into their house at dinner time, dropped my trousers, and took a shit on their family dinner table. There were five of them in total, two Grunirs, and a green-skinned race with tusks that reminded me of orcs. A little shorter than me, but strong and vicious looking. To be honest, I was more interested in joining in the work than marveling at the multicultural prison I¡¯d walked myself into. I stood like a spare wheel while the next cart was emptied, which earned me more disdainful looks, but it was worth the price to get the beat of the work and to judge where I could fit in without too much disturbance. Finding a clear space on the next wagon, I finally joined the work following the simple pattern. Lift jagged rock, jerk up onto shoulder, then hurl onto cart bed. Following the others, I kept to the same steady rhythm, and with my new levels of Toughness, I found that I didn¡¯t tire half as easily as I expected too. An hour in, I decided to pick up my rhythm. Grab, jerk, step, throw. Grab, jerk, step, throw. I still didn¡¯t go as fast as I could have as I didn¡¯t want to risk exhausting myself as I tested out the limits of my new physicality. We had a few moments of rest between carts, and I took the opportunity to look around at my fellow workers to see if I could find common ground with any of them. It didn¡¯t take long to be dissuaded of the notion. Almost all of their eyes glared daggers into me. I couldn¡¯t see any reason for them to be so angry with me, so I just chalked it up to a touch of paranoia, and smiled at anyone whose eyes I met. After the third set of eyes and not one return smile, I reverted back to my original suspicion. They were angry with me for some reason. Thankfully, the next cart was wheeled into position. The wheels were chocked, the tarp was pulled off, and the sides dropped so that we could access the rocks within. I ignored the death stares coming my way and threw myself into the work. A little mantra played in my mind: Get stronger, get stronger, find who you need, and let¡¯s go home. As the light began to wane, a whistle sounded, and everybody stopped what they were doing immediately. I didn¡¯t know what came next, so I observed and followed the other workers back to the Chargehand¡¯s hut. They didn¡¯t stop there, but I did. Pushing my head through the canvas, I announced presence. ¡°Hello?¡± There was no one there. It appeared as though Eest cleared off before anyone else. Perks of being a Chargehand, I supposed, but it didn¡¯t help me. I still didn¡¯t know where I¡¯d be sleeping tonight. My best bet would be to catch up with the tail end of the workers and see what they did for sleeping quarters. So I hurried to catch up with them. I moved alongside a straggler. ¡°Hey, friend. What happens now? It¡¯s my first day here and didn¡¯t exactly get a tour.¡± He grunted, ¡°Food, sleep.¡± My heart soared at the thought of food and solid sleep. ¡°Where do we sleep?¡± ¡°Anywhere you can find unless you got a patch,¡± he muttered. And then he sped up, the set of his shoulders, the turn of his head, telling me I¡¯d exhausted all the conversation he was willing to give. I was practically last to the food-serving area. Long rows of wooden trestle tables and benches were already filled with hardened workers devouring food from stone bowls. I was happy to sit on the floor as long as I got some food. Especially when I saw chunks of meat floating about in the grayish-brown liquid. I joined the back of the queue, and after around a five-minute wait, I was finally presented with my own bowl of stew. Despite being last, it was a good-sized portion, and I was so ready for it. Mystery meat and all. I looked around just in case there was a spot at a table. But people seemed to like to sit around even once they were finished their meals like it was fucking Costa or something. Tonight I thought it might be best if I was alone, well away from everyone until I got into the swing of things. Finding a shadowed corner with a jutting rock to lean against, I sat down and devoured the stew in a few minutes. The warmth of the food after so long, combined with the hard work, brought a sleepiness that I wasn¡¯t prepared for, and my eyes started to close of their own volition. I fought to keep them open, and had to stand up and shake out my limbs just to stay awake long enough to find out where we slept. People began to slope away after another hour. I followed them to rows of long stone and thatch huts along the base of the mountain. They had the feel of barracks or dorm rooms. So I wandered over to the first of them to see what I could see. I didn¡¯t hold out much hope to be sleeping inside tonight as I saw only groups entering the huts, and other people curled up on the ground for the night. My heart sank at that point. Accepting that there probably weren¡¯t enough huts or beds in the huts to accommodate everyone, I set off to find a secluded location. Preferably one where my back could be against the wall so that I could see anything coming. As I moved into the shadows, I felt the presence of company following. It was a strange sensation, but I felt the menace radiating from them before I even laid eyes on them. A kind of ominous, foreboding itch at the base of my neck. I turned a few corners to make some room, and also remove all doubt that they were following me. Once there was no doubt, I turned to face them. ¡°Everything okay, gentlemen?¡± Four of my fellow coworkers appeared from the darkness. ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± the biggest and most violent looking of the orc types said. ¡°You show up today and start working too hard. You making the rest of us look bad. It¡¯s gonna have to stop.¡± I held up a placating hand, ¡°Guys, nobody cares what I do. You just crack on as you were. I¡¯ll do my thing, and hopefully, I¡¯ll be out of here in a few weeks at most.¡± While I spoke, I checked the ringleader¡¯s stats. Worry hit as they didn¡¯t show, but a feeling of understanding filtered through the mire. They weren¡¯t ascended. They didn¡¯t have stats. The leader grunted and hocked some phlegm before wagging a finger. ¡°Nah. You already caused the problem. You don¡¯t think the Overseer noticed how fast you were working? He¡¯s gonna want us all to be working that hard now. And me and the boys here, we don¡¯t much want to work that hard. So we need to reset the status quo.¡± I groaned. ¡°I¡¯ll try and make it look like I¡¯m working slower. That¡¯s no problem,¡± I lied. I fully intended to work as fast as I could again. ¡°Yeah, well, it ain¡¯t that we don¡¯t believe. But you still gotta pay for the trouble you already caused. You see, everything comes at a price, and you already did what you did.¡± I shuffled back with a little more urgency. ¡°Look, guys, I don¡¯t want to do this.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? We didn¡¯t think you would,¡± he leered, then gestured to his cronies. ¡°Get him, lads.¡± Chapter 14- Adam They moved forward as one, spreading out to cover any hope of escape. With a little shuffle, I fell into a reluctant fighting stance, eyes darting for options. The last thing I wanted to be doing on my first day here was getting into a fight. While I mulled over my options, a rock hit the back of my head, rattling my teeth and sending me staggering forward on jelly knees. I should have known the fifth member of our little work gang would be here, somewhere. A stupid oversight that left me at their mercy. Now all of them were on me, and I had little choice but to ball up and take it. They kept kicking for longer than I¡¯d have expected, though time moves different when you¡¯re taking a beating. When they finally tired of kicking I felt a warm glob of warm spit splattered on the back of my neck. Seems we hadn¡¯t made friends yet just yet. ¡°You can sleep there for the night, pale face. And when you show up in the morning, you better match the pace we set, or you¡¯ll get worse tomorrow night.¡± Whatever anger and dismay I felt at my new life being no better than a torture camp, I couldn¡¯t help but crack a bloody smile as I the now familiar change inside my body took place. I checked my stats: Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 14 Class: ¡ª Stats: ¡°Not bad at all,¡± I mused, before crawling off into the corner of the nearest buildings. Bloody, bruised, and with a broken nose and at least two broken ribs, But I had the beginnings of a plan as I drifted off to sleep with surprising alacrity. I woke up aching, barely conscious, and hardly remembering what had happened the evening before. It took a few moments for the pain to come flooding back, bringing with it the memories. I wasn¡¯t ready to wake up, but the nudging from a nearby foot served as my alarm clock. ¡°What did I tell you? Don¡¯t get injured again. Seriously, Henshaw. Do you think I have all my time to waste healing your miserable carcass?¡± I looked up into the yellow eyes of the mage who¡¯d healed me yesterday, and smiled. Relief flooding me that she was here again. ¡°Trust me, the last thing I want is for you to need to heal me again.¡± The buzz from her glowing hands swept through my body, healing mostly superficial wounds. ¡°In fact,¡± I continued, feeling a substantially better. ¡°If you just taught me how to heal myself, you¡¯d be completely free of my clumsiness, wouldn¡¯t you? I might even be able to help you with some of the others¡¯ injuries around the place. She scoffed, though it held about as much humor as a kick to the crackers. ¡°So now you¡¯re trying to steal my job as well as make my life a misery?¡± I held up my hands, a gesture I seemed to be using a lot lately. ¡°Okay, I won¡¯t heal anyone. I¡¯ll just heal myself if you show me.¡± ¡°Even if you could use magic, people have affinities and develop according to their nature. Harmony is exactly what it sounds like. The balance of the energy inside of you with the energy outside.¡± She gestured to the air around us. ¡°If you really want to access it, you need to acknowledge your own nature and connection. Once you do that, then you¡¯ll need someone to show you how to channel. When you get to that stage, don¡¯t come to me.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± I said, getting to my feet as she tried to extract from the conversation. ¡°I mean that genuinely as well. Is it just a matter of your time? Can¡¯t you just give me some pointers? Or is there something deeper?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a pushy, strange smelling Xenos, with no understanding of magic. My skin crawls just to be around you. The Velorians may have fallen far, but not so far as I would willingly dispense ancient knowledge to one of your ilk. At best, you are a slave. At worst, you look far too much like an Archon to trust.¡± I laughed at the comparison. ¡°Me? Look like an Archon? I think you¡¯ve been drinking, Keala.¡± ¡°It is Mage Unstele!¡± she snapped. ¡°And yes! You do. If an Archon house lived in a cave with no access to magic and practiced inbreeding for five centuries!¡± I stared slack jawed at the outburst and particularly cutting insult. ¡°I think I liked it better when you kept your cards close to your chest, Mage Unstele. Thanks for clarifying your position, though.¡± She turned and stalked off without another word, and though I didn¡¯t particularly want to, I had to follow her because that was the way to the Chargehand¡¯s shed. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Eest looked up as I walked in, then thumped his desk angrily with an open palm. ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡± I saw no reason to lie. ¡°I was attacked. I¡¯ve just been healed by the mage.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear excuses. We¡¯ve got quotas to meet based on manpower. You better work twice as hard to make up the shortfall.¡± I could only have been fifteen minutes late at best, but that wasn¡¯t my main grievance. ¡°You know why I got beat up, don¡¯t you?¡± He¡¯d already looked back down to the papers on his desk. Now he looked up with an expression of mock bewilderment. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re still here. Did you misunderstand something?¡± Knowing a losing battle when I saw one, I headed out of the hut, irritated but not surprised. I¡¯d already intended to work just as hard today anyway. Harder if I could manage it. Despite that, I still stopped again in the doorway. ¡°Is there anywhere I¡¯m supposed to be sleeping? Or do you just expect us to sleep on the streets?¡± ¡°Plenty of bunks in the dorms. If you don¡¯t find one, that¡¯s down to you.¡± ¡°Yeah, I thought you¡¯d say that.¡± I jumped from the rickety wooden porch and set off toward the loading area, feeling alone but more determined than ever. The work was in full flow as I arrived, but that didn¡¯t stop my work colleagues from stopping to stare at me as I took my place. I smiled and greeted them all before I got into the work. I started slow to warm my muscles and stretch them out. But by the time the second cart came, I¡¯d found my rhythm and increased it steadily. I didn¡¯t look at the others as I worked, but by hell, I could feel the weight of their eyes on me. In the slight breaks between carts rolling in to our work area, I gently stretched, taking long deep breaths, more often than not with my eyes closed, in an attempt to remain focused. I didn¡¯t want to get drawn into a staring match at this point, there¡¯d be plenty of time for that later. When the whistle sounded to finish the day, they all left muttering and casting dark looks of pain to come my way. I stayed back, watching them walk out of sight for their evening meal. Once they were gone, I finished emptying the cart we were working on, then I grabbed the tarp that covered the rocks as they were brought up from the mine, and threw it in the cart. Satisfied, I headed back to the food serving area, exhausted and beyond hungry. I was the last there, so there was no queue for food, and the servers were starting to pack up. Thankfully, the cauldron of stew they served from still sat on the table, and I managed to get a good hearty bowl of stew that was possibly higher toward the brim than the one I¡¯d gotten the day before. I scanned the tables still filled with people eating, and predictably, there was no available seating. With a disappointed expression, I headed toward the barracks, bowl in hand. The moment I was out of sight, I sped up and turned away from the barracks to make my way back to where we¡¯d been working. I kept to the shadows, taking great care to make sure I hadn¡¯t been followed. At the loading area, I waited for ten minutes in the darkness, crouched behind a large boulder rolled into place to be broken up in the morning. Once I was sure the coast was clear, I picked my way over to the empty wooden cart, slid in the bowl of stew then hauled myself in, before piling up the hinged side board. I sat in silence for a few more minutes, making sure no one had seen me, then I happily slurped my stew. I was exhausted, so my mind barely wandered from the chunks of meat and vegetable and bland broth in front of me. And once it was finished, I pulled the tarp over me and almost immediately dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep, with only a hint of disappointment that I hadn¡¯t leveled in Toughness again after all of my hard work. I awoke much fresher than I had the previous morning, but still stiff and aching. Full body healing certainly helped with the aches and pains from a day of hard labor, but I didn¡¯t want to have to take a sound beating just to get it. The alarm to start the work day hadn¡¯t sounded yet, so I stowed my bowl and the tarp from the wagon in the undisturbed rocks at the base of the mountain. The act preceded a tingle in my mind. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant, but I hadn¡¯t felt anything like it before. I checked my stats: Level: 15 Class: ¡ª Stats: Mental Acuity had gone up a point. As overjoyed as I was, it seemed odd to receive a point for stowing the bowl and tarp under a rock. But, I got annother overall level, so I wasn¡¯t about to complain. I went through a series of stretches, mind more on the stat increase rather than the movements. After a lot of thought, I suspected the increase was for the whole action of using the cart as a place of safety to sleep, perhaps even having the foresight to use the tarp and hide it away. As the alarm went, I shrugged and filed the conundrum away for later thought. It was time to work. My fellow work mates walked into the area together, a tight-knit group full of hostility toward me. ¡°Made it on time, did you?¡± the leader grunted. ¡°You plan on trying to embarrass us again today?¡± The rumbling of the first cart of the day being pushed out saved me from a pointless interaction. With a thumb, I pointed toward it. ¡°Time to get to work, huh?¡± Then I turned and got to work, pulling the side nearest me down to start unloading. ¡°You gonna pay for this,¡± their leader said again and spat at my feet as he seemed to like to do. I wanted to deck the bastard, scoop the spit up, and rub it in his face. Instead, I hauled another rock from the truck. At the end of the day, I repeated the same pattern as the night before and finished clearing the last truck as the others left. They paused to watch me, but the Chargehand was out and about shouting at people so they moved on as he came to speak to me. ¡°Numbers are up on your team yesterday. Must have really put your back into it, hey, Henshaw?¡± ¡°I¡¯m doing what I can,¡± I replied, between rocks. ¡°You¡¯re finished now. Leave the truck and get dinner.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like leaving a task unfinished, and this will give us a better start in the morning.¡± The Grunir looked at me for a long moment as if trying to weigh if I was insane or not, then with a shrug, he turned. ¡°Suit yourself.¡± By the time I walked into the dining area, I noticed my work colleagues had chosen a table near the serving counter. They were all looking at me as I passed. ¡°You sit here with us for dinner tonight,¡± their leader said loudly, causing others to look around to see what the fuss was about. He slapped the table and the pity spot next to him. ¡°Teams should eat together. Good for morale.¡± ¡°Teams don¡¯t attack new members on their first day. That isn¡¯t so good for morale.¡± I retrieved my bowl of soup, glanced back with as cold an expression as I could manage, then set off in the opposite direction that I needed to go so that I could loop back later. Eyes were on me as I walked away, and I nodded and smiled to the most intense of the watchers. I noticed that some of them were watching what was going on behind my back, which alerted me to the fact that I was being followed. Chapter 15- Adam Once I was deep into the huts, my fellow rock loaders didn¡¯t even attempt to hide their pursuit. Running footsteps pounded behind the adjacent huts as they tried to get around me, while heavy footfalls followed closely behind me. I would be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t expecting a more concerted effort to get me tonight, and I¡¯d also be lying if I said part of me wasn¡¯t eager to bring some pain this time. As long as I wasn¡¯t smashed in the head with a heavy rock, I reckoned I could do some damage among the dark huts. I maintained my pace until a Grunir stepped out in front of me, blocking my way. I turned, putting my back to the nearest wall to make sure that I couldn¡¯t be snuck up on, then faced the leader. ¡°You really don¡¯t need to do this.¡± ¡°Oh, we do. Thought you could ignore our warning and there wouldn¡¯t be consequences. This time, it¡¯s going to take the mage the best part of a day to heal you up.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± one of the others added lamely. He had a rock in his hand and while I still didn¡¯t fancy getting hit by it, at least I wasn¡¯t getting blind-sided with it. ¡°Look, we¡¯re expected to clear a certain amount of trucks a day, yeah? I don¡¯t know how many the Overseer wants, but I figure you can all just take it easy while I graft a little harder.¡± The leader stepped forward, a low growl in his voice as he spoke. ¡°It¡¯s not about the work no more, it¡¯s about your attitude.¡± I looked down at the stew with brief remorse, then sloshed it in his face. It wasn¡¯t hot enough to scald, which was a shame, but it stopped him in his tracks, and left him vulnerable to a stone bowl smashed into the center of his face. He went down easier than I expected, screaming in pain and holding his face. As the others recoiled¡ªthat second of time where they forget they were in a group and it was everyman for himself¡ªI reacted. Surging forward, I stepped onto his falling body, and used it to spring high and double-foot kick the thinnest of the orc types standing just behind him. He went down hard, and despite my best efforts to land on my feet, I stumbled and fell too. I rolled quickly, grabbing a handful of gravel as I did, with the intention of hurling it in the rock wielder¡¯s face. But the rock was already coming down where I¡¯d landed a moment ago. It completely missed me, but smashed into the gut of his friend. Luck was with me, and I acknowledged that this was the first time I¡¯d fought someone properly since being ascended and having multiple increases in Toughness. True, most of those were in durability, but I still felt an overall difference as I regained my feet. The rock thrower tried to catch me with a wild haymaker, and I stepped away, leaving him to swing wide and overbalance. I threw a gravel-filled right hook to his temple, followed by a left hook to the liver. Then I danced away, leaving him staggering and spluttering. The bloody-faced leader was back up from my opening attack, and he was coming in fast with the other two workers on either side of him. Not good odds. With an underarm throw, I lashed out my right hand as hard as I could. It was never intended to meaningfully damage, just to distract, and it did its job perfectly. All three flinched, and the leader howled as the gravel hit his broken nose. I followed up with a straight jab into the crushed nose to get him backpedaling, and then sent a right hook to the orc on his left. I was smashed into the waist by the Grunir on his right. I staggered back and tripped over the wheezing orc with the rock on his stomach. I fought like hell to stay on my feet, but the other Grunir added his weight to the attack, before another of their number caught me with a clean punch to the eye. I went down like a felled tree, two Grunir on top of me and two orc types kicking into me. All I could do at that point was to cover up. Four against one, with me pinned on the ground, was not a fight I could win. When the beating finished, I was dragged to a dark back-alley and dumped. The leader leaned in, his breath smelling of rotten meat. ¡°You don¡¯t slow down at tomorrow, the camp mage won¡¯t do you no good, ¡®cause we¡¯ll kill you next time. You understand?¡± He prodded a thick, spike-nailed finger into my chest. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re getting away still breathing tonight.¡± I tried to reply, but just ended up coughing up blood as they limped away. Once they¡¯d gone, I allowed myself a small smile as the tingle of another stat tingled in through my body and made me feel a little better: Level: 15 Class: ¡ª Stats: Another point in toughness. I couldn¡¯t understand why I¡¯d get another so soon, and I wasn¡¯t even going to try to until I¡¯d been healed. So I curled up in a ball, focused on my breathing and drifted off into a deep, miserable combination of sleep and unconsciousness. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. When I came back to the land of the living, I did so via a hand shaking my shoulder. ¡°The sooner you get moved on, the better!¡± I felt surprisingly good. I opened bleary eyes to find the mage standing over me furious. ¡°Morning,¡± I said, yawning and stretching on the cold, hard floor. She turned without a word and stalked off. I jumped up to my feet and followed after her. ¡°Hey, wait. Thanks for the healing. How did you know where I was?¡± She spun, her face flushed a darker shade of purple. ¡°Because I just spent half the morning healing your work mates! Pray no one else need healing today because my mana is gone! Gone, I tell you. Because all you¡¯ve done since arriving is cause trouble.¡± It was hard to suppress my laugh. ¡°Hardly. All I¡¯ve done is what has been asked of me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it. Just stay out of trouble and out of my way. I swear, next time our paths meet, I¡¯ll heal the breaks but nothing else.¡± ¡°You could just tell me how to heal myself.¡± ¡°I think we covered that magic isn¡¯t so simple. Unlike some people not so far away from where I¡¯m standing. But if it will shut you up, then fine.¡± She spun to face me fully, black cloak and gray hair flaring wide as she did. ¡°Focus on what you want to heal. Imagine what it should feel like when it is healthy. Then take hold of that feeling and shove your mana into it until it becomes real.¡± I smiled, hoping to soften her up a little toward me. ¡°I thought you said it wasn¡¯t simple?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a lot more nuance to it, but that is what it boils down to. Now leave me alone, and if I must heal you again, then ask me no more questions.¡± She left with a flurry of huffs and puffs, and disappeared around the corner of the huts. I waited to give her time to get some distance, and then I walked the same route back to work. The alarm sounded as I walked, meaning thankfully I wasn¡¯t going to be late, but I decided to pop in the Chargehand¡¯s office all the same. He looked up and grimaced. ¡°You again. I¡¯m getting bad reports about you Henshaw.¡± ¡°You are? Why? I work hard.¡± ¡°The other lads say you¡¯re causing trouble, and they¡¯re having to work harder to make up for you.¡± ¡°Is that so,¡± I said, unable to fight the grin on my face. ¡°Something funny?¡± ¡°Yeah! You realize the reason they keep attacking me is that I¡¯m working too hard. At least that¡¯s the reason according to them. Why don¡¯t you do your job and actually watch what happens during the day?¡± He slammed both fists down on the desk. ¡°Don¡¯t start your shit with me, boy. I told you not to rattle the cage, and here you are, rattling the damned cage. The pit healer is at her wits end with you.¡± I shook my head in despair. ¡°What is wrong with you people? Bad enough I¡¯m stuck here, but you¡¯re all cracked in the head. I feel like I¡¯m in some alternate universe where yes means no and black is white.¡± Eest frowned at me for too long without speaking. It was uncomfortable, but finally, a big, yellow-toothed grin split his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s because you don¡¯t know the truth, lad.¡± He looked around furtively, as if to look out for people listening in our conversation, then he beckoned me closer, speaking quietly. ¡°You need to know something.¡± Intrigued and hopeful, I walked back over to the desk and leaned closer. ¡°Do tell.¡± He moved far faster than I was expecting and cracked me with a meaty fist in the eye. ¡°Do what your told and keep your big head down! Now get out of my office and go do your job.¡± As my head rocked back, I reckoned I deserved to lose a point in Mental Acuity for being so fucking stupid. Instead, I had a swelling eye, complete with a cut across the brow from where his rings bit in. My fists clenched, ready to swing, but I swallowed the anger. What would it achieve but more trouble. I was leveling at what seemed to be a good rate, and I didn¡¯t need to jeopardize my hopes of getting home with a bout of rage, no matter how justified. I stepped back, fighting against the torrent of anger in my chest, turned, then stormed from the hut, hoping I¡¯d get the opportunity to pay him, my fellow workers, and the Overseer who had started this mining ordeal by giving me a broken jaw, some serious payback. I marched to the loading area and received the usual scowls form my buddies. I glowered back until I took my position. Then I ignored them. The first cart came, and I went crazy, throwing the rocks on the lorry faster than ever before. Once the cart was empty, I glared at the others. ¡°Same time tonight, fuckers? I¡¯ll be ready for you all. And I promise you,¡± I said, pointing at their leader. ¡°Just like you promised me. There¡¯ll be murder tonight, but it won¡¯t be mine.¡± They all seemed surprised by the outburst, and a few of them paled, looking nervously to each other. None of them mustered an answer until the next cart rolled in, and the leader snapped back, ¡°You think we¡¯re scared of you?¡± I gave him one last look. ¡°You should be.¡± Then I pulled down the side of the next cart and got to work. This time after I cleared the area closest to me in record time, panting from the exertion, I stood back and watched the others work. There was no doubt that they were uncomfortable under my glare. Which was as it should be. I¡¯d had enough of their shit. I wiped some sweat from my brow and winced a little at the pain in my eye. ¡°Stupid fucking chargehand.¡± I¡¯d probably need healing again after tonight, so it could be fixed then. Unless¡­ could I do it myself? I had the stone cold words written in my mind that that the mage path was open to me, and my Harmony was strong. Recounting what the mage had told me, I focused on my eye. I imagined what it should feel like. It was hard as my mind kept turning to the itching feeling of the cut part, and the tenderness of the swollen area. Another cart came before I could get a grip of the feelings I should be nailing down. I shelved the attempt and got back to work. Once again, I emptied the area closest to me, but rather than offer death threats, I stood back and focused on my eye again. On the fourth cart, I repeated the pattern, when a voice interrupted me. ¡°What the hell are you doing, lad? So much for you grafting. No wonder these fine fellows are furious with you.¡± There was a chorus of aye¡¯s from the rest of the team as I glowered at him with all the contempt I had in me, then pointed to the cart. ¡°Are you blind?¡± His face bloomed red. ¡°What did you say to me?¡± ¡°Blind,¡± I repeated. ¡°There are six of us. That means the carts are divisible by six. I have already cleared my sixth and more. I won¡¯t do more when no one appreciates my efforts.¡± I pointed to my eye. He threw his hands up in the air. ¡°Are you mad? That is not how a mining camp works, fool. You work till the cart is empty!¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have to show me the mining camp rules, because how I heard it, the six of us need to clear twelve carts a day. Two for each of us. So, assuming we meet that quota, there¡¯s no problem.¡± He fish-mouthed and finally stammered an enraged. ¡°What?!¡± I pointed over at him and spoke slowly. ¡°You are holding up the work. Distracting the lads with your complaining so we might be short today. Whaddya say, lads? Will we be short?¡± It seemed no one knew quite what to do with the all-new Adam. Funny how people thought they could push and push and not expect anything to break. It took a short while, but the red-faced Chargehand finally retorted. ¡°You¡¯re going to pay for this.¡± Then he marched off like his feet were on fire. Not the response I was expecting. Chapter 16- Adam None of the others reacted. They seemed completely thrown by my change of tactics. I remained where I was as they finished the cart, and returned my attention to healing. I definitely got the feeling I was going to need it sooner rather than later. It was an odd sensation, because at first, all I felt I was doing was mental manifesting exercises which didn¡¯t really fill me with confidence. But after a little effort, I started to feel something. Nothing to do with my eye, unfortunately, but a definite sense of an energy well inside of me. I hoped it was the mana the mage had spoken about, but there was no way to tell until it healed my goddamn eye. I had to stop again as our fifth cart of the day was wheeled in. I looked up to the sun to get a feel of how long we¡¯d been working, and reckoned it was still before noon and we¡¯d easily meet the quota at our current pace. When I looked back down, however, I saw the chargehand returning, and with him was the Archon Overseer and Keala the mage. You can tell a lot about people¡¯s mood by their walk, and the Overseer¡¯s red-faced march told me this was likely going to be a painful meeting. Especially considering our only other meeting resulted in a broken jaw. ¡°You,¡± he barked, finger pointing like a spear. ¡°I don¡¯t know what your game is, but you have crossed the line. You might be well thought of by the Warden, but this is my camp. You do not attack my workers. You do not verbally abuse my chargehand, and you certainly do not pester my mage for advice on how to do magic!¡± I stood as nonchalantly as I could, hands loose by my sides, and a slight stance I hoped they didn¡¯t notice. I wanted to seem relaxed but ready to move. ¡°I¡¯ve done everything that has been asked of me. I¡¯ve worked diligently for the good of the mine and to increase my own level. I¡¯m not sure what the problem is, Overseer.¡± It seemed my words fell on deaf ears. He had come here for violence, and violence was what he would dispense no matter my words. With a growl, he went to backhand me like he had the first time. I was ready for it, and swayed just enough. His outstretched fingers whistled past my nose, a quarter inch of air between them. ¡°Does it make you feel powerful to beat new recruits for no reason? Or is it just me?¡± Somehow, the redness of his face deepened a few shades, but he had no answer for the question, beyond sending another backhand my way. This time, he followed it up with a quick flurry of punches that had me backpedaling with nowhere near the amount of control I¡¯d have liked. How I managed to keep my feet and not get caught was a mystery to us both, and I knew I wouldn¡¯t avoid a second round of attacks. At Level 26, he could kick my arse faster than I could say, Sorry, I¡¯ll haul rocks. I put up my hands up in an attempt to calm the situation. ¡°Look, hey, stop. I¡¯ll keep quiet, I¡¯ll not ask your mage any more questions. I just want to put rocks in carts until I¡¯m strong enough to train elsewhere.¡± Sadly, there was no empathy or compassion in the Overseer. My words just seemed to spur him on. I parried a powerful right that damn near broke my forearm, then sidestepped a kick to my head, snapped out with blinding speed. I responded with a sweet right uppercut just below his ribs, completely un-telegraphed and carrying all of my strength. Despite his level, he grunted at the impact. Then it was over. I suspected he¡¯d been holding back. Now I knew it was true. His next attack was unblockable, unavoidable, unbelievably painful as he struck in the sternum. I sailed backward in an arc, struggling to breathe from the blow. I scarcely had a moment to get my bearings as I landed, before he was standing over me snarling with anger. ¡°And don¡¯t think you¡¯re getting healed for this.¡± The words came out in a gasping, disjointed mess, but the message was, ¡°The Warden wanted me leveled.¡± It was a mistake. He answered with a solid kick. I covered up with my arms, but something cracked in my right forearm, and the force of the blow sent me back a half dozen paces, bouncing along the stony ground in a pitiful heap. Before I could scrabble up, he was on me again, and there was nothing I could do about it. Genuinely fearing for my life as I went airborne from another ferocious kick, the moment I bounced to a stop, I attempted to heal myself again. I focused on that pit of energy inside of me on the broken arm and compressed sternum with everything I had. The shadow of the Overseer loomed again. ¡°Mine collapse,¡± he growled. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ll tell the Warden when he asks how you died.¡± I should have been scared, but his words only brought anger at the injustice. Eleven years, I survived living with Earl. Eleven fucking years of beatings, I survived, only to die to this prick. I needed to heal. I needed to survive. I needed to make this cowardly asshole pay. A churning in my sternum brought me to my knees as a sudden, incredible gust of wind engulfed me. A faint shimmer of silver blended with the dust whipped up from the ground. Even with my vision obscured, I knew that the Overseer was no longer close. I felt a wave of relief as someone or something had saved me from his wrath. As the hurricane died down, I heard screaming and commotion. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! I managed to get my head up from the ground to take a look around. The closest people to me were on their arses. The Overseer was about twenty feet away from me. Jaw slack, eyes wide. ¡°How did you do that?¡± I looked around confused as to who had asked the question. It was the mage with an equally shocked look on her face. ¡°W¡­what?¡± ¡°You did magic. You said you didn¡¯t know any.¡± ¡°I¡­ did magic?¡± ¡°Yes, you did magic! What¡¯s this about?¡± The Overseer was up on his feet again and looked uninjured. I noticed he wasn¡¯t coming after me anymore. If anything, he looked wary. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here. Stay right there and don¡¯t do anything else. I need to speak to the Warden.¡± He stormed off, shouting at the Chargehand to get everyone else back to work. I lay there gasping for breath and utterly dumbfounded. I hoped the mage would at least come back to heal me. I hoped that somebody would stay close enough to tell me what had just happened. Neither of those things occurred. I was still where they left me when the Overseer returned with the Warden and the Augur, and felt a surge of relief to see the two men. I reflected almost immediately at how ridiculous that was. These people weren¡¯t my friends, my saviors, nor anything else. Funny how quickly perspective could change. There was every chance that they¡¯d just kill me over the perceived trouble I¡¯d caused. They came to stand over me, and the Augur healed me straight away with a disdainful look for the Overseer who pointedly ignored him. ¡°What happened to not causing trouble, Adam?¡± the Warden asked as I writhed on the floor from the healing. I could feel just how much more powerful the Augur was than the Mine Mage as his energy coursed through my bones. ¡°I¡¯d give up on me,¡± I groaned. ¡°Do yourselves a favor and send me back home where I can¡¯t cause any more trouble for anyone else.¡± Anso laughed. ¡°That¡¯s quite the sense of humor, considering your current situation.¡± ¡°I dunno. They say humor is the best medicine. Though I prefer magical healing if I¡¯m honest.¡± Anso nodded. ¡°Surely it¡¯s better to behave and not need healing at all?¡± I pushed myself into a sitting position, feeling a thousand times better than I had a few minutes ago. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯d think¡± I replied drily. I didn¡¯t go into the unfairness of my current situation, nor the crime of institutional bullying that had been committed against me, because quite frankly, no one ever gave a shit. ¡°So what now?¡± He offered me a hand up and I took it. ¡°What now is that you have apparently unlocked your mage¡¯s path.¡± I rubbed my head. ¡°Yeah. I heard something about that, but I haven¡¯t got a clue what happened. He looked impatient for the first time. ¡°Well, would you do me the honor of checking your stats? Or we can wait ten minutes for Augur Stanis to root through you, head to toe?¡± ¡°No, no. I¡¯m happy to look.¡± Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 16 Class: Warrior/Mage Stats: Progress in Class: Mage Skills: Spirit Burst (AoE) Level: 1 Range: Self (5-foot radius, scalable) Unleash a torrent of raw mana centered around yourself. Anyone within a 5-foot radius is forcibly expelled from the area and receives both physical and magical damage. While powerful, this spell is especially taxing on the caster as it uses raw mana at a rate of 100 mps. Radius of attack increases in line with Mana pool. I had somehow unlocked both Warrior and Mage at the same time. It made no sense. I¡¯d fought the Unalaran Vyrnsoul Pero on Unalar, and I¡¯d fought the other workers here the previous night and hadn¡¯t unlocked the path. But then I supposed I hadn¡¯t fought back against Pero in any meaningful way. I had neither scored a damaging hit he didn¡¯t gift me, nor won a victory. Against the workers here, I had done well, and that was shown in the Toughness boost I received. But none of them were even ascended, and I guessed that would probably make a difference. Here, not only had I just fought a strong ascended warrior, I had technically won the fight after using Spirit Burst. I grinned at my increases. Still a long way to go, but depending on what happened next, my day was definitely going in the right direction. Anso and Stanis were still waiting for me to tell them the news, and I saw no reason not to. ¡°I¡¯ve reached Level 3 on the path of the Warrior. And Level 1 on the path of the mage. I¡¯ve unlocked a skill called Spirit Burst, and it looks pretty powerful.¡± ¡°Indeed, it is,¡± Augur Stanis said, his bitter expression giving away his feelings on the matter. ¡°Did someone talk you through the process?¡± The question caught me by surprise and I laughed. ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? Here in this shithole?¡± If looks could kill, I¡¯d have keeled over on the spot. ¡°No, Augur. No one has taught me magic here. The Mine Mage told me that if I wanted to heal, I should focus on it. Everyone else has tried to kill me. Or at least given me something to practice healing on. It seems I¡¯m not a natural at it though.¡± ¡°Truly?¡± the Warden asked, looking far more impressed than the Augur. ¡°Truly,¡± I replied bitterly, and cast a look across the people around us. The Overseer and the Mine Mage looked horrified. The Chargehand had unsurprisingly disappeared, and the workers had gone back to work, though they were glancing over like meerkats sensing a predator nearby. ¡°Then it appears we must accelerate your training.¡± He rubbed his chin as he looked at me. ¡°We won¡¯t get you into Danan Academy, but perhaps Irala will take you. The Dean is an old friend of mine.¡± ¡°When you say academy, you don¡¯t mean an actual school, do you? Classes, kids, teachers?¡± He frowned at me. ¡°I am speaking of Warrior Mage academies. There are six in the whole of the Union. There, you will learn the fine art of balancing combat and magic so that you can join the elite of House Garazal¡¯s warriors. You will be surrounded by others, who have the perquisite base stats in both Harmony and Toughness to excel at both.¡± ¡°You will learn a number of other things there,¡± Augur Stanis added. ¡°But you have shown a strong ability to develop Harmony, and manifesting any power is rare, let alone an Aetheric power.¡± I didn¡¯t know what Aetheric power meant, and I hadn¡¯t expected any kind of praise from Stanis. While his expression certainly didn¡¯t look like he was giving praise, it was definitely in there somewhere. ¡°Of course,¡± Anso said. ¡°You will be starting at a huge disadvantage. Academic years are 32 cycles long, and you will be joining the first year two-thirds of the way through. You will be the weakest there by a wide margin.¡± I met his eyes, and nodded. ¡°Sounds awful. Can I ask, will I be beaten and tortured daily at the academy?¡± The cheeky bastard had the nerve to look offended, but slowly his face softened. ¡°No. I suppose not.¡± ¡°Then sign me up. I¡¯m done with this place.¡± Chapter 17 - Earl ¡°You survived?¡± Nick said, as I was thrown back in our cell. I wasn¡¯t in the mood for chitchat, but the mercenary had pretty much saved my life, despite the protests of his squad. ¡°I did. Fought a big, yellowy green bastard with claws an inch long.¡± ¡°I thought, with your leg¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ve fought with worse,¡± I mumbled, lying down in the corner as a wave of dizziness swept over me. ¡°Broke a rule for taking a weapon in, though. So I reckon I¡¯m in deep shit for that.¡± Maddock looked over at that point, suddenly interested. Nick only looked more worried. ¡°Did they say what the punishment was?¡± ¡°I doubt it¡¯s going to be a back rub and a beer,¡± I said with a yawn. Then I rolled over, tired and with nothing else to say. He took the hint and spoke to Maddock instead. The two men mumbled quietly between themselves. I did what all good convicts do before possible imminent death and fell asleep. The boom of a deep voice woke me. I clambered up fast. Eyes stuck together with gunk, but still ready to start swinging. ¡°The Arena Monarch has called you to judgment, Earther Three.¡± I blinked a few times, and risked a wipe at my eyes so that I could see the guard properly. ¡°Yeah? For the knife?¡± The leader grunted, but didn¡¯t answer beyond a command to follow. I looked briefly at my two cellmates. Maddock looked away, but Nick made the effort to meet my eyes. ¡°Good luck, Earl. I¡¯ll be rooting for you.¡± I offered him a thumbs up. ¡°I don¡¯t like many¡­ Nah, I don¡¯t like any people. But you¡¯re all right, Nick. I got to have one last fight because of you.¡± I got a weak tired smile in return before I was unceremoniously dragged from the cell for taking too long. ¡°I¡¯ll walk, yer set o¡¯ bastards. No need for this kind of treatment.¡± To my surprise, they put me down. One of them moved behind me and pointed forward. ¡°Move.¡± And the other guards set off. I moved at a snail¡¯s pace to start and I was getting slower by the second. My leg was numb from the knee down, and my arm felt like it was about to drop off. Whatever they¡¯d hit me with after the fight kept me alive but it certainly wasn¡¯t a fix-all. After a few minutes of walking the seemingly endless corridors, I wished I¡¯d just let them carry me to save what strength I had, for whatever awaited. The game was over when we arrived at steep stone steps. With grim determination, I prepared for the first step. Putting weight on my damaged leg, I tried to step up. And fell. As my arm wasn¡¯t working, I bashed my face off the hard concrete angle of the step and felt warm blood well from my forehead. ¡°Fucking great,¡± I muttered, before being hauled into the air. The guard behind me hadn¡¯t even bothered to ask. Just grabbed the back of my shirt, scooped me up, and carried me to the top like an old bit of carpet. Then, unfortunately, he manhandled me onto my feet. I say unfortunate, because with all the fresh blood in my eyes I would have taken a carry to our destination. Every time I tried to wipe them, I¡¯d stumble, and the guard would have to catch me. ¡°This gonna take much longer?¡± I asked a minute later. ¡°I¡¯ll be dead before we get there at this rate.¡± No one replied. ¡°Oh real nice. You fuckers are going to have to carry me again soon. I can hardly see, and my leg¡­¡± ¡°We are here,¡± said the guard in front of me, taking a few more strides before we came to a stop. I rubbed at my face to clear the blood away, then put my hand over my brow like I was peering into the sun. Only this time I was trying to divert a bloody waterfall. In front of us were two thick wooden doors with chunky black rivets and metalwork that looked built to last. They swung open to reveal a grand hall. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Inside the room it was real fancy. Comfy leather and velvet chairs created little relaxing spaces, though no one sat in them. A fire roared in a fireplace, even though it wasn¡¯t cold, and a human-looking woman sat at the end of the long room like a Monarch. She wore a headdress full of gems, and even though light purple skin and dark gray hair wasn¡¯t usually my thing, she was damned good looking. Behind her throne were three of the more important looking Be-Steady guards, and one other purple-skinned man wearing a cloak and holding a cool looking staff of twisted wood and metal. Clearly the same race as the woman, he had his gray hair swept back flat against his skull. I wasn¡¯t an expert on hair products, but he was definitely using something with a strong hold to achieve the effect. He stared at me like someone had rolled a ball of steaming shite into the room. The woman snapped at the guard and gestured at me. As the guard babbled back, I stumbled from a wave of dizziness and only kept my feet with the aid of a fat fingered hand on my shoulder. The wannabe Monarch gestured to the cloaked man beside her, and with a nod of his head, he approached me, staff in hand. As he closed the distance, he raised the staff and thrust it at me. A bright ball of energy shot out and washed over my entire body. It hurt, and I winced, but at the same time, there was no doubt that it had healed some of my wounds. He looked utterly confused and glanced back to the Monarch with a troubled expression, speaking in their language. Whatever he said, she agreed, and he repeated the action. I felt a lot better after that. Still not fully healed, but on my way. ¡°Few more of them and I reckon I¡¯ll be right as rain, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re trying to do.¡± ¡°No good with Earther language.¡± He held up a finger. ¡°Wait.¡± After speaking quickly to the woman, he turned and tried to lay his staff on my head. I stepped back into the guard who¡¯d held me upright. It was like walking into a wall. I jolted to a halt, and the cloaked dude¡¯s staff bonked me on the head. I cried in pain. He frowned but didn¡¯t stop. Not for a few long minutes. He actually looked tired when the pain finally stopped in my head. His face was one of disgust as he looked at me. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± ¡°Where to start,¡± I replied with a tired laugh. ¡°What the fuck did you just do to me?¡± He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then shook his head. ¡°Start with why you took a knife into an unarmed arena contest?¡± ¡°To win.¡± ¡°Yet by its nature of being unarmed, you did not win. You were disqualified.¡± It was my turn to shake my head. ¡°You can sod right off with that bullshit. Nobody told me it was unarmed. You should disqualify yourselves for not telling the contestants the fucking rules if you want us to follow them so badly. But then you also shouldn¡¯t be putting people with no natural weapons against whatever the fuck that thing was I fought. He was tooled up to the hilt! ¡°And another thing. You never heard of weight classes?¡± With a deep frown and a further look of confusion, he scratched his head. ¡°The Ogrid had no weapons.¡± I shook my head in disappointment. ¡°He had ten razor-sharp claws, and he was three times bigger than me, you mad bastard!¡± ¡°You greatly exaggerate the difference, Earther. He was approximately thirty percent taller than you, at most.¡± ¡°Bollocks! He had to weigh at least six hundred pounds. But before you apologize for that, d¡¯you wanna explain how you said you can¡¯t speak my language and now you¡¯re chatting away like you lived on Earth your whole life?¡± He laughed. The whole room did, apart from the woman, and even she allowed a small smile to reach the corners of her mouth as she answered the question. ¡°You are speaking our language, Earther. Able Lectun granted you the ability. Though he claims it was far harder than it should have been. Much like healing you. I would like answers for that. But more importantly, I would like to know who sent you?¡± It took a while to process the information overload, so her question didn¡¯t filter in immediately. ¡°Sent me? My government, I think. My brother was kidnapped and taken through your anomaly thingy on my planet. I think our top brass were sick of losing soldiers and having to pay their families compo, so they got some expendable riff-raff instead. And here I am.¡± Judging from her deepening frown, I suspected my answer didn¡¯t float her boat. ¡°I think you know very well what I mean, Earther. Why are you here, and what were you supposed to do with that dagger?¡± I raised my palms defensively. ¡°Woah, woah, Woah. Now listen here, petal, you need to settle yourself down a minute and¡­¡± The air rushed past my face as I was unexpectedly flying back across the hall. I smashed into the firmly closed doors I¡¯d entered through, then slid to the floor like a dead slug, with a number of new physical defects. Suffice to say I was no longer appreciative of the doors solid craftsmanship. Particularly the rivets. It was the Able fella who spoke next. ¡°It would be wise if you refrained from instructing the Monarch of the Velkyn Arena on how to conduct herself, and more specifically, avoid using derogatory terms in your address.¡± I held up my hands. ¡°Fucking sensitive much? I didn¡¯t mean anything by it. I was just trying to say that no one sent me. I already told your guards that I stole the knife off one of them hunters who carried me through. Slipped it of his leg when he was busy. Damn near cut my own leg off trying to hide the sharp piece of shit as well. Doesn¡¯t sound very well planned does it?¡± He turned back to the Monarch. ¡°I detected no lies. He is either delusional and believes this is what happened, or¡­ this actually happened.¡± She seemed relieved. ¡°That¡¯s something at least. Find out how he was able to hold it. And why you are struggling to heal him.¡± ¡°I will, Monarch. Trust that this is now one of my top priorities.¡± ¡°Good. And he can fight again. I want to see more of what he¡¯s capable of. Make sure he is fully healed and put him against one of the low ranking pool fighters. If he wins, we¡¯ll ascend him.¡± The Able Lectun was visibly stunned by her response, then turned to me and muttered under his breath, ¡°Lucky boy, Earther.¡± Then he beckoned me off to a side room. I took one last look back at the Monarch who¡¯d blasted me across the room, then followed the old man. Chapter 18 - Earl The side room looked more like a laboratory, with flasks and shelves and books and burners everywhere. ¡°Hope you¡¯re not planning to experiment on me?¡± I said, eyeing a bed with straps. ¡°I¡¯m not a good patient.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± he said with a thoughtful expression, leading me over to two chairs. ¡°That depends on your usefulness. You are quite the enigma, Earther Three.¡± I gestured around room. ¡°Oh sure. I¡¯m the enigma. The name¡¯s Earl, as well. Not Earther Three.¡± ¡°Of course you are. Now tell me,¡± he said, taking a seat. ¡°How did you attune to the Imperial Guard¡¯s knife?¡± I picked up a conical flask with some orange smoky liquid in it and swirled it around before giving it a sniff. After I finished choking from the acrid, lung-burning fumes it produced, I wiped tears from my eyes and answered, ¡°Dunno what attune means. I just slipped it from its sheath because I thought it might come in handy. It¡¯s a bloody sharp knife.¡± ¡°The armor and weaponry of the Unalaran Hunters are some of the finest craftsmanship in the Union. High-level equipment designed for elite soldiers, and requires you to be at least Level 20.¡± I picked up a glass cube next and peered into its center. There was something inside and reminded me of a snow globe, only it was a cube. ¡°Not really sure what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I said, shaking the cube vigorously. The Able winced but said nothing. He was like a patient father. Just with slick-back hair. Nothing like my own. He was bald, and he was a miserable fucker always complaining about me. But that was neither here nor there. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m Level 20 and you just can¡¯t see it?¡± He was smiling now, and I wondered what would happen if I lunged for him. There were two of the guards over by the door watching us, but I reckoned I could snap the chatty purple wanker¡¯s neck before they got close. ¡°That seems highly unlikely, Earther. But it seems we will find out soon. With a fight against an established pool fighter, you can prove that your first fight wasn¡¯t a fluke. And we will apparently fast-track your ascension to discover the truth of this matter.¡± As tempting as it was, I decided not to croak him. I didn¡¯t think it would help my mission of finding Adam, and he might even be able to help. ¡°Sounds good,¡± I said with a fake smile. ¡°Can I have an opponent who¡¯s similar in size this time? I don¡¯t mind a bit bigger but that was just ridiculous.¡± ¡°You should concern yourself more with level than size. When you face a pool fighter, they will be ascended. Rest assured that we won¡¯t let you in with someone too strong, but once ascended, you are at a considerable advantage.¡± ¡°So how does it all work? I¡¯ve heard arena mentioned and ranked and pool fighters. What is actually going on here?¡± ¡°We are a Peripheral Arena. We hold tournaments four times a year, once every fifteen cycles. People come from all over the Union to fight here for prestige and money.¡± ¡°Okay. So the fight I just had was part of a tournament?¡± ¡°Of a sort. We have gauging fights every day to select our pool fighters. Win five gauging fights, and you are ascended and enter the pool. The pool are our house fighters. Because we are required by law to have one hundred and twenty-eight fighters with a maximum level of 20 to hold a Peripheral tournament, having pool fighters means that no matter how many fighters come to take part, we can always make up the numbers.¡± ¡°So my fight was a gauging fight?¡± ¡°Correct. If you win, you will become a pool fighter.¡± ¡°Nice. You won¡¯t be sorry to give me a step up. I¡¯m a fighter back on Earth, so I¡¯m wasted in the gauging fights.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°How wonderful. Modest as well, I notice.¡± ¡°Always. So do the pool fighters get pitted against the fighters who travel in? Or do you just fight them against each other?¡± ¡°An interesting question.¡± He was grinning now. ¡°We make most of our money from the gates of the tournament and from the sale of quality pool fighters. To get good gates, we need good fighters from across the Union. And those fighters need wins, or they won¡¯t come back again. So we choose the weakest from the pool to fight the number one seed from the entrants and so on, with weakest facing strongest until we reach the middle ranks where it is more balanced. In the early stage of the tournament, those are usually the most competitive and entertaining.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I whistled long and low. ¡°Fuck me, that¡¯s a brutal system. Poor, shitty pool fighters.¡± ¡°Indeed, it is. But we want the best to thrive, and we want our best pool fighters to showcase their abilities and attract attention so that we can sell them.¡± ¡°Ah, I got it. Makes sense.¡± ¡°I should add, Earther. Should you join the pool ranks, you must understand that death is strongly prohibited. While accidents happen, once you enter the tournament, you should avoid the ferocity in which you finished the Ogrid.¡± I was in genuine shock. ¡°I thought this was a death tournament! How am I supposed to fight properly if I can¡¯t kill? Why does everyone always take the fucking fun out of things. I thought you guys were different.¡± I saw the familiar look of disgust flit across his face as I spoke. ¡°If half of the fighters die every tournament, explain to me how we will continue? This is a business, and people need to be able to grow and develop and come back stronger. So I repeat, you cannot intentionally kill in the tournament.¡± ¡°The next fight isn¡¯t technically the tournament though, is it? So if it comes to it, I can kill them, yeah?¡± He stared at me in long silence. I continued to fiddle with things on the counters while he composed himself. ¡°What manner of creature are you?¡± He held up a finger before I could respond. ¡°Please, do not answer. It matters not. I would prefer it if you could show restraint against your next opponent once the announcer calls for the end of the fight. You killed the Ogrid after the fight was called in your favor. That is unseemly even for a gauging fight where death is permitted.¡± I nodded along, barely listening until he finished speaking. Then I jumped in with the most important question. ¡°So! When is my next fight?¡± ¡°Never mind that. We have other work to be about for now. Let us focus, if you will, on why you are so resistant to both healing and mind magic. That may well make you valuable enough on its own.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said, moving closer to inspect a glowing pendant. ¡°Would you please come and sit, Earther Three? You¡¯re making me dizzy pacing around like that.¡± ¡°Earl,¡± I replied, irritated that I had to remind him again. ¡°And I¡¯m fine, thanks. I prefer to think on my feet. Unless you¡¯ve got something to drink. And by drink, I mean alcohol. Whisky, vodka, beer? I¡¯m not fussy.¡± The frown was back. ¡°Not today, Earther. We are not friends. We will not drink together, and I will not use your given name until you are ascended. Until then, you are an oddity to inspect and nothing more. It¡¯s best you understand this.¡± I shot a finger gun at him. ¡°I knew I didn¡¯t like you. Now I know why. What a twatish thing to say.¡± ¡°Undoubtedly. And to avoid confusion, you may call me Able.¡± A guard entered the room, interrupting our conversation. He snapped out an immaculate salute as the Able stood from his chair. ¡°The Monarch has set the fight for the Earther in two hours, my lord.¡± ¡°So soon?¡± He cast another irritated look in my direction. ¡°Well, I suppose that is for the best.¡± The guard left, and the Able turned back to me. ¡°So much for learning your secrets. Though it should be easier if you are ascended, and if you are dead? Well, I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter at all then.¡± ¡°Fair enough. To be honest, I thought I was coming here to be executed, so I¡¯ll take the wins where I can get them.¡± ¡°I notice that you don¡¯t seem overly concerned about being executed?¡± ¡°Nope. Because you wouldn¡¯t have been able to execute me.¡± The Able chuckled at that. It was a pretty creepy noise that sounded like a choking gerbil. ¡°And why in the Union not? Are you hiding secret reserves of power that we don¡¯t know about?¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯d have just went apeshit, attacked anyone near me, and you¡¯d have had to kill me to stop me.¡± ¡°So the same result?¡± He said looking confused. ¡°Your death.¡± ¡°Not at all. I¡¯d have gone out in a blaze of glory! It would have been beautiful.¡± He paused and inspected me more closely. ¡°I don¡¯t know Earthers very well, but your attitude concerns me. Are you typical of the species?¡± It was my turn to laugh. ¡°Sure I am! And that reminds me, probably should have asked this earlier, but I got carried away. My brother¡¯s here somewhere. An Earther called Adam Henshaw? Came about three weeks ago. He¡¯s a crackin¡¯ little fighter, so he¡¯s probably already through the gauging fights. You heard of him by any chance?¡± The Able didn¡¯t turn back to face me, but he laughed way longer than I thought was necessary. I found I just couldn¡¯t keep my eyes off his neck as he did. ¡°Of course I don¡¯t, Earther. I don¡¯t even know your name, remember? As for the person you seek? Three weeks ago? He could be anywhere. You were all captured by the Unalaran Hunters, so only they would know. They have control of approximately 70% of the dross portals, and provide cheap servants and fighters to the highest bidders. The person you¡¯re looking for could be on the other side of the Union. For example, there are approximately eight hundred Peripheral Arenas all looking for fresh blood for their own pools. He could be in any one of those. He could already be dead. He could be in a work-camp somewhere!¡± ¡°So I need to have a word with the Unalarans, then? Makes sense.¡± ¡°You belong to the Velkyn Arena, Earther. You won¡¯t be going to speak to anyone.¡± I chuckled at his over-confidence, but he ignored it and carried on. ¡°For now, we must get you prepared to fight.¡± He headed out of a different door that led directly to the corridor. The two guards followed us closely, watching me like fat, angry hippo-hogs. As we walked, my mind wandered again over how I could kill all three before they could bring me down. I went through a number of glorious scenarios, eyeing drapes and ornamental weapon displays that dotted the corridor walls. All of those thoughts fled as we entered a cave of treasures. Brutal weapons as far as the eye could see. Chapter 19 - Earl ¡°So it¡¯s weapons, huh?¡± I asked, looking around the room in awe and feeling a little out of my depth. ¡°That is one of the reasons we¡¯re here. If you can pick any of them up, then you can choose from anything in this room. All the way up to that doorway,¡± he said, gesturing to an archway at the back of the room that framed even more weapons. ¡°Of course, they all require being ascended to carry them. Your opponent will have access to this same selection. I picked up a rapier on the rack closest to me, and gave a few swings with a smile for the Able. ¡°Looks like your ascended thing isn¡¯t all it¡¯s cut out to be, huh?¡± He watched the full display with abstract fascination. I threw the sword on the table under the rack and wandered down the first aisle. I let my hand run over sword hilts, axe handles, and despite my initial excitement, I wasn¡¯t sure how much I cared. I¡¯d always been about the fists. Sure, I¡¯d use feet and forehead too, even teeth on special occasions. But it hit me as I surveyed the armory that I could be facing people with years of sword practice and the like. My mind started running over how I could fight against a sword master or an axe-wielding maniac with the skills I¡¯d perfected over years of training. Then my eyes landed on a bow, and I felt an extra little pang of concern. An enemy with a bow would be a huge fucking problem for me. And one I wasn¡¯t sure I could cope with if they were skilled and a fast runner. It¡¯d involve a lot of jaunty running, ducking, and diving. I might never get close enough to bash their skull in. With that thought in mind, I made a decision. I had to come up with something that would help in the worst case scenario, which was an archer, but would be useful against all weapons. Scanning the room again, I looked for shields. When I saw them, my heart dropped. They were bloody enormous. I headed over in the hopes that the massive, curved sheets of metal were hiding something a bit more reasonable. They were not. ¡°What the hell are these supposed to be?¡± I asked the Able. ¡°Those are tower shields. They are very defensive and generally used either by much larger fighters who use them in unison with a heavy one-handed weapon, like a hammer or axe, or static fighters who would use a spear and control the ground around them.¡± I nodded. The spear idea sounded good, and I was leaning toward it. ¡°From my observations of your fight, Earther, you are very much a counter-attacker. Shields such as these would be of limited use to you.¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m a counter-attacker when I¡¯m fighting a bloody ogre the size of a fricking bungalow.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what a bungalow is, but it sounds truly ferocious.¡± ¡°My point is that I change my fighting style according to my opponents. I¡¯m not gonna dance around a soft shite for ten minutes if I can peddle them in ten seconds. Now, do you have any smaller shields?¡± He shook his head at my reply, but cast his eyes around the room. ¡°There should be at least several different styles. Follow me.¡± He led me back the way I had come, then pointed at a few round, little discs laid flat on the table. My eyes had just slipped over them as I¡¯d entered because they looked like nothing more than upside-down cereal bowls. ¡°On the opposite end of the scale, we have bucklers,¡± he announced. ¡°Not exactly a shield to strike terror into an opponent¡¯s heart.¡± I picked it up, turning it around with my hands. It was made entirely of metal apart from cloth padding around the hand grip. I took hold of the grip and tested the weight when throwing a jab. It covered a lot of my hand, and it was as light as a feather. Next, I smashed it against the table with a fair amount of force, then checked the buckler over again. I grinned as images of cracking ogre skulls danced in my mind. ¡°It¡¯s perfect!¡± ¡°And for your weapon?¡± the amused Able asked. ¡°I get to choose something else?¡± ¡°Of course. Though, you have restricted yourself to one-handed weapons in choosing to wield a shield. That is no bad thing.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I picked up another buckler with my left hand and set my stance. It was pretty comfortable. ¡°Earther,¡± the Able said with a hint of a patronizing tone already present. ¡°You cannot choose two shields. Not only is it suicide, it¡¯s not within the rules. Every opponent may choose either a double-handed weapon, dual wield single handed weapons or one weapon and one defensive item. There is of course a ranged item which includes up to one hundred of its associated ammunition. As you can see, there is no provision for two defensive items.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, because this one,¡± I said, raising my left hand, ¡°is a defensive item, and this one,¡± I said, raising my right, ¡°is a weapon.¡± ¡°That is not it¡¯s official classification. You have already flouted the rules in your first fight. There will be complaints enough that we are boosting your position to fight a pool fighter. Now stop behaving like a child and pick a weapon.¡± There was little point in arguing, and having something sharp was always helpful. I wandered off again, and tried out a few possibilities out. The first thing I snatched up was a hand axe. I swirled it around a few times like I knew what I was doing, and it slipped from my hand and clattered on the floor. I gave it a disdainful look where it lay and moved on. I figured swords were too unwieldy and required skill to use. And so I moved on. Finally, I came to the daggers. Deep down, I had always known that I¡¯d end my journey here. It was the one weapon I¡¯d used before, apart from a steel bar that one time behind Manors pub. There were a few lovely items to choose from, but most were too long and some only had one cutting edge. I needed something punchy. Unfortunately, none of them met my hopes. I made a shortlist of three that I liked anyway, and then began the arduous task of picking between them. If not for a lucky glance to a miscellaneous weapon section in the corner of the room, I might not have noticed an interesting-looking loop of chain and a few other interesting oddities. Curious, I wandered over to inspect. Lifting the chain, I put it down almost immediately as I uncovered a strange-looking knife buried in the pile. A little flutter of ecstasy hit me. I had found my weapon. The hilt had a knuckle guard that looked a lot like a knuckleduster. And the blade, while only about three inches long and with one cutting edge, had a thick rounded spine that looked more like a steel shaft, and it ended in a solid, deadly point. It was a weapon for stabbing not slashing. I picked it up and tried it on for size. It was a little too big to be comfortable, but I really didn¡¯t care. ¡°We¡¯re done,¡± I said, turning to Able, waving it in his face. His expression said it all. ¡°Are you entirely sure, Earther?¡± ¡°As sure as I¡¯ll ever be.¡± ¡°You do realize that against any of these great weapons, you won¡¯t stand a chance at deflecting any blows? I thought you might choose a sword to help with that but¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s my problem, Able.¡± ¡°Very well. Now, might I ask. Are you getting options for the weapons?¡± ¡°Options?¡± ¡°Yes. I understand all of this will be very new to you, but under normal circumstances, you can¡¯t actually hold these weapons for longer than a few seconds if you don¡¯t meet the criteria to wield them. Have you received any mental messages?¡± I honestly didn¡¯t have any clue what he was talking about. My scrunched-up facial expression probably explained that for me better than words could as he slowly nodded. ¡°As I thought. And to be expected. You are not ascended. I just¡­ wondered. We can check again if you survive this next encounter.¡± He looked at the weapons again and shook his head sadly as I punched the buckler with the ridged knuckle guard of the knife. It made a satisfying clang and totally protected my knuckles. ¡°Oh, and before you flit off,¡± I added, halting him mid-turn. ¡°That healing shit you did to me earlier. It hurt like hell, but I¡¯m almost healed. Any chance of finishing the job?¡± His expression dropped to an odd mix of outrage and amazement. ¡°Firstly, one does not simply demand the Able of an arena to perform healing. Secondly, how are you not fully healed? I was certain I had completed the task.¡± ¡°Nope. Leg¡¯s still a bit dodgy. Everything else feels good though.¡± He stepped forward abruptly, and I stepped forward in response, weapons ready. He growled. ¡°Let me check, Earther. It¡¯s hard enough to read a non-ascended, but you are extra troublesome.¡± He had no reason to attack after everything he¡¯d done so far, and I got the sense that having this Able fella escorting me here was real special treatment, so I beckoned him forward to make his check. He placed a slender purple hand on my head and closed his eyes. I watched him carefully as his face screwed up. He didn¡¯t answer for a while, then his expression grew more intense as the last of my leg wound healed up. He finally pulled back, pale and with sweat beading his forehead. ¡°I have exhausted myself to heal you. That is not normal in the best of circumstances. You owe me, Earther.¡± I patted his shoulder. ¡°Not really, Able. You don¡¯t strike me as the kind of man who does something without there being a benefit to yourself. You made a calculated choice. You want me at my best for this fight.¡± He sneered though his evident exhaustion. ¡°You think so, do you?¡± ¡°I know so. I might be a vicious bastard, but I¡¯m not stupid.¡± His face contorted through a series of emotions, before it firmed up into resolve. ¡°If you don¡¯t win this fight, Earther, pray you are killed in there. For what awaits you in my care¡­ Let us just end this with a little personal information. I consider the fine art of torture to be one of my favorite hobbies. Right alongside taxidermy. Do you have a word for taxidermy on Earth?¡± ¡°Er, not sure how this language thing works. But if I¡¯m following your words as I understand them, then you¡¯re saying you like to torture people to death and then stuff and preserve their dead bodies as trophies?¡± He smiled the most sinister smile I¡¯d ever seen in my life. It was a work of art in itself. ¡°That is exactly what I¡¯m saying!¡± Then he spun, his cloak swishing out in a pretty cool fan before he stormed from the armory. I was left suddenly feeling pretty fresh in the care of the two guards, and eager to get to work. ¡°What now, guys?¡± I honestly hadn¡¯t expected a reply, so when the bigger Be-Steady of the two grunted an answer, I was stunned. ¡°Arena antechamber. Fight starts in one hour.¡± Chapter 20- Earl Left alone in a stone room, empty apart from a worn wooden bench, I did a few stretches, practiced a few thrusts with the knife, and a few blocks and jabs with the buckler before I sat down to conserve energy. The hour passed in a heartbeat, and before I knew it, the guards had returned to lead me to the arena doors. I stood, bouncing up and down on my toes, full of anticipation. What the fuck will be behind them this time? I wondered, reliving the moment I came face to face with a damn ogre. The doors swung open. The heat of the outside world flooded in, and I marched out. I expected the silent neutrality of my last fight from the crowd, but that couldn¡¯t have been further from the truth. If the arena was five percent full last time, this time, it was closer to thirty percent. At least twenty-nine percent of that crowed had decided to greet me with a huge boo, though the percentage might have been higher. Now this was something I was used to! As the resentment washed over me, I felt that familiar warm fuzzy feeling that came with the knowledge that I was alone against the world and now the Union! I raised my arms in greeting, and slowly raised my middle fingers. The booing went up a notch to a level that I didn¡¯t think was possible. It energized me more than a six-pack of beer, so I kept my arms up like that, fingers extended for the entire walk to the starting circle. I was enjoying the crowd so much that I hadn¡¯t even looked at my opponent until I¡¯d almost reached the center. I raised an eyebrow at the tall, blonde woman who stood at least half a foot taller than me. She looked as human as they came apart from her muscles and her height. She carried her double-bladed axe like someone who knew how to use it. ¡°Well, petal, I¡¯ve always prided myself on not having beaten many women up. And definitely never in an organized fight, but you look like you know your way around a ring, so if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯m just going to pretend you¡¯re a bloke.¡± She hissed at me, which I took as agreement, then the announcer spoke. ¡°Welcome, everyone, to a special event! One of our respected pool fighters, Talla from the planet Reth, has agreed to fight a promising hopeful from a dross planet. The prize? 500 Unitols to Talla!¡± A huge roar of appreciation went up for the woman, but she had eyes for me and me alone. Like a cat stalking a mouse. ¡°If the dross fighter wins, they will be granted ascension and admitted into the pool.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Those words brought another huge boo from the crowd. I¡¯d slipped my buckler into position now, so it was awkward, but I still managed to give them all the double middle finger. Talla spat as I did it, and when our eyes met, she said her first words to me, ¡°Siroth scum!¡± I winked at her and set myself ready. ¡°ARE YOU READY?¡± the announcer asked the crowd. They answered with a roar of approval. ¡°FIGHT!¡± he screamed. She swung her axe straight at my head. I stepped back, not worried about her landing the first strike. I expected her to overbalance or overextend with the ferocity of her move, but she didn¡¯t. With remarkable strength, she managed to control the axe¡¯s momentum and bring it back for a reverse strike, moving forward all the time. I stumbled back with the second swing, and had to roll to the side immediately as the axe came down from above. It crashed into the ground by my head, and I was reminded again, inches, not feet. I lashed out with a kick to her knee. It was a sweet connection, and against a strong human, it would have broken the knee and dropped her. I was ready to follow up and end the fight. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to catch up with my expectation. It was like kicking a bloody lamppost! She stumbled slightly, but that didn¡¯t stop her from yanking the axe from the ground to thrust at me with the spike at the top of the shaft. I rolled away again, this time coming to my feet before backing off to put some distance between us. Tougher than the ogre, came the desperate thought unbidden. And this was me at full health. I continued to back away from the swinging axe, trying to figure out a strategy for dealing with her. ¡°Run all you want, runt. There¡¯s only so much arena.¡± She was right, and I really didn¡¯t like being pushed back. I wasn¡¯t used to it. But I definitely wasn¡¯t running. I was just biding my time, getting the rhythm of her moves, the timing of her swishes. It was regular, and it was consistent, so it was easy to spot when the change was going to come, the switch up in momentum to finish the running runt. There was an extra twitch on her right shoulder, the kind of tell a fist fighter has when they¡¯re about to throw a big right hand. It showed both impatience and assuredness that she had me in hand. In the next step, she leaped forward an extra half foot faster. Her axe swung further back to her right, and she brought it around with extra momentum into an overhead chop that would have split me in two if I hadn¡¯t seen it coming. A swift sidestep to the opposite side gave me space and I snapped out the buckler to knock her axe even wider of the mark. Overextended, she stumbled ever so slightly, and while she was able to recover her balance quickly, it wasn¡¯t nearly quick enough. I followed up with a dagger thrust between her ribs, hooking her to stop her turning. She had no choice but to go forward, which gave me all the time I needed to go wild. I delivered a flurry of around ten or more stabs, targeting liver and kidneys as she staggered into the wall. I stamped into the pit of her knee, thus proving that lampposts can in fact bend. She sprawled face first into the wall and slid to the sand. I straddled her back and I went to work with my knife. By the time the announcer had called the end of the fight, my two guards had already hauled me off what was left of Talla. It was over and I had won. The crowd was silent. Apparently, they didn¡¯t like what they saw. I soon fixed that by raising my arms in victory and extending my middle fingers again. As one, the crowd erupted into angry shouts and boos. Much better than silence. Chapter 21 – Earl I was led back to the arena antechamber where the guards took my weapons and dumped me there to wait alone with my thoughts. I sat on the bench, leaned back against the cold stone replaying the fight in my mind. Despite the end of the fight, she was tougher than the ogre. Her biggest weakness was that she had totally underestimated me. A fatal mistake. The tell was probably something she would have masked against an opponent she thought worthy of the effort. For me, she just wanted to prove a point and get me out of there as quickly as possible. She didn¡¯t consider me worthy of her time and she got a three-inch spike repeatedly plunged into her brain amongst other places. I closed my eyes and smiled at the thought of it. ¡°You¡¯re so much more than just strength and aggression,¡± a voice said, breaking me from my daydream. ¡°I studied you well this time, and you know something, Earther? I knew you would win after about the third swing of her axe.¡± I looked up to see that the Able was in the room, and he didn¡¯t look happy. ¡°But why kill her? After the kick to the back of her knee, she was utterly finished. And why do you insist on alienating the crowd? They are a huge part of how we add value to your name.¡± I stood, moved to one leg and stretched out my right quad as I faced him. ¡°What the hell are you babbling on about?¡± He grimaced at my reply. Then as if stepping over a steaming shit, he moved closer. ¡°I am referring to your use of the Akra.¡± ¡°Ah! The Akra. Got you. What¡¯s an Akra?¡± He looked back at the guards. It was brief thing, but I saw the look of pure disbelief on his face. ¡°So you weren¡¯t intending to insult them on purpose?¡± ¡°Of course I was. A middle finger on Earth basically means screw you.¡± ¡°If that is your reasoning, then you might want to reconsider your insult. That particular salute originates from the second Siroth Wars. Billions of lives lost to the savagery of those rebels.¡± ¡°Just so you know, Able, none of your words mean anything to me. I feel like we¡¯re talking a different language again.¡± ¡°Let me explain it more carefully to you, Earther. The salute you have brandished today is considered one of the most vile, insulting, and degrading gestures you could use among the people of the Union. In short, you are projecting the wish that you would like to see everyone in the Union burn. That you curse both their ancestors and descendants until the end of time. In essence, that you despise them and everything they stand for. You might as well scream from the rooftops that you are a member of the Siroth.¡± I gaped. ¡°Holy shit! That¡¯s what I was doing? It means that much?¡± The Able smiled as he finally broke through to me. ¡°That is what you were doing.¡± ¡°Nice. I¡¯ll definitely keep that up, then. Did you hear the reception I got! It was intense.¡± The Able actually slapped his forehead. ¡°You are broken, Earthling.¡± ¡°Insane,¡± one of the guards grunted. I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been called insane for most of my life. I don¡¯t really see it that way.¡± ¡°Most insane people don¡¯t,¡± the Able said. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t matter. A promise is a promise, and our Monarch said that if you won, we would ascend you. Are you ready?¡± ¡°Does a bear shit in the woods?¡± He turned and strode from the room, and I followed eagerly after. ¡°You¡¯re still making it sound like this ascension¡¯s for my benefit. And while I¡¯ve no doubt it¡¯ll help me, we both know there¡¯s more to it than that, so stop trying to sell it like you¡¯re doing me a favor.¡± ¡°Oh but we are.¡± ¡°Still, I want those five hundred Unitols that Talla was offered.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Hardly. She was proven, and she only took the fight because she was desperate for money. You took the fight because you¡¯re desperate to survive.¡± ¡°Nah, I would have took it even if you offered me nothing.¡± I pumped a fist. ¡°I was born for this shit! I¡¯d still like to know your endgame here though.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you do, and I am sure I will not divulge all of my secrets to you any time soon. Just understand that I am an Able. A mage of high standing within the Union, and I achieved that rank by asking the right questions and carrying out the right experiments. I believe you are the right question. I will find out if that is the case with my experiments in time. But first you must ascend.¡± He was creeping me out a bit now. But I¡¯d come this far, and while my alarm bells were ringing, I was in too deep to pull out now. We ended up in a small room which was lined with a completely smooth material like marble. It was seamless apart from the door we¡¯d entered through. ¡°The ascension chamber,¡± the Able declared. ¡°I do hope you enjoy the experience. I remember it being quite euphoric.¡± I shrugged and watched as they all left the room with impatience. As the door closed, I noticed that the back of the wooden door was covered with the same type of material as the rest of the room. The moment it closed fully, the seams of the door disappeared, and a pulsing red light spilled out of every surface of the room. That was the last thing I could remember before waking up in another small room. It took a moment to observe my surroundings. Nothing unusual. Bare stone walls. A bed that I was sitting on, and a couple of chairs with a table. Judging by my stiffness and the cramp in the arch of my right foot, I¡¯d say I¡¯d been in that position for some time. Otherwise, I felt okay, but disappointed. I¡¯d expected more from this ascension business, but I felt exactly the same. Swinging my legs off the bed, I stood up and did my little routine of stretches. I didn¡¯t like stretching, and I didn¡¯t make a habit of many things. I also didn¡¯t like cats. But those furry little fucks were born hunters, and they always did stretches and made it look like they enjoyed it, so I tried to do the same. After my stretches, I tried to shoot a ball of power out of my hands like I¡¯d seen other people do since I¡¯d been here. Nothing! I tested the weight of the bed to see if I¡¯d gained super strength. Nothing. I was getting disillusioned now, but I threw out a quick combo of punches. Same speed as always. Yep. No fucking super powers for me. I banged on the door. ¡°What¡¯s going on, you set of bastards? I thought I was getting ascended!¡± There was no answer. Not on first attempt, and not on the tenth attempt. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I paced the room twice, then dragged the mattress off the bed and hoisted the bed frame up to use as a battering ram. It was awkward, but sturdy, I set myself to charge, and the door swung open. The Able stood there, shadowed by two guard and smiling until he saw the bedframe. ¡°I knew you would survive. But¡­ what are you doing to the bed, Earl.¡± ¡°Fucking Earl now, is it?¡± I looked at the bedframe and then back to the Able. ¡°And what do you mean? Knew I would survive? I can¡¯t remember you mentioning a risk of dying.¡± ¡°It¡¯s rare. Perhaps five percent.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not rare at all,¡± I interrupted. ¡°Rare enough. There was a concern over you because, honestly, Earl, I haven¡¯t seen anyone take as long to ascend as you didn¡¯t. You¡¯ve been in there for over a cycle.¡± I dropped the bedframe, and pushed it back into position with a clatter while I thought. My dad had always said that the wise man considers what he ate for dinner and checks the room before he farts. It had something to do with thinking before you speak. Seemed like cryptic bullshit masquerading as humor. ¡°Longer than most, hey? So how long do most people take?¡± ¡°Three days is average.¡± ¡°And how long is a cycle?¡± ¡°Five days.¡± ¡°Aye, well, that¡¯s not amazing, is it?¡± ¡°I said over a cycle. You were almost seven days.¡± That surprised me more for the time I¡¯d been unconscious. ¡°A fucking week?¡± I muttered. He appeared to have lost interest and was now surveying the ransacked room with a frown. I offered a sheepish grin. ¡°Yeah, I was practicing to see if I had super powers. Sorry about the room.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not I who needs your apologies. Perhaps you should direct them to yourself. This is your room for the duration of your stay with us. At least while you are a pool fighter. I suppose I should also point out that your door wasn¡¯t locked.¡± ¡°Trusting,¡± I said with a wide smile. ¡°Now tell me about this ascension bullshit. I don¡¯t feel any different. Probably because of how tough I already was. That¡¯s why it will have taken so long as well.¡± ¡°Unfortunately not, Earther. It looks like the opposite is true. The lower leveled the person, the harder it is to ascend them.¡± ¡°Bullshit. How do you know what level I am, then?¡± ¡°Because I can see it when I look at you, now that you¡¯re conscious. Would you like me to tell you, or would you like to find out for yourself?¡± ¡°Tell me!¡± I snapped, mentally preparing myself for the worst. The slick-back bastard grimaced. ¡°You are level 9. Not what we were expecting at all. But you have proven you can hold your own in the arena by your own merit. I imagine you have very high Toughness, and for that reason, you will remain in the pool until you are killed or you lose too many proving fights.¡± ¡°Toughness? What¡¯s that mean in regard to this ascension shit?¡± ¡°You have three base stats. Toughness, which is all of your physical attributes. Mental Acuity, which is all of your Mental Attributes. Then Harmony, which is all of your Spiritual Attributes.¡± ¡°So strength, cleverness, and holiness?¡± The able gawped. ¡°I think it¡¯s safe to say that you are not high in Mental Acuity, though your fight IQ may save you from the score of a rock. You can see the levels of others or your own detailed breakdown with a mental command.¡± ¡°Sounds a bit mumbo jumbo to me. Just tell me the stats.¡± ¡°It is not mumbo jumbo. It¡¯s part of the framework of being. All it requires is concentration.¡± ¡°Or you can just tell me.¡± ¡°I can only see your name and level. Your individual stats are personal. Though, in your defense, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen a Level 9 ascended before. 10 was always the lowest. I always thought of it as a kind of lower limit.¡± I made no effort to hide my irritation. ¡°Is that supposed to help?¡± ¡°It means your special, Earl. Just not the special we were hoping for.¡± I gave him the middle finger as I tried to stare holes in the arrogant shit trying to see his level. ¡°I will be honest, Earl, you look like you are trying to pass a particularly troublesome bowel movement. Try this. Close your eyes and breathe. Imagine the world isn¡¯t just what you see or hear, but threads of energy weaving through each of us.¡± I did as he asked, eager to get some kind of powers out of this farce. ¡°Now with your eyes closed, focus on me. Picture me in your mind, standing here before you. Not as a body of flesh, but as a knot of energy. Once you have it, hold that image steady.¡± I felt rather than heard him step closer. ¡°Instead of asking yourself what I am, feel it. Let the answer come to you. Don¡¯t force it, just¡­ let your awareness expand. Like water finding its level, the answers you seek will rise up if you allow it.¡± I opened my eyes. ¡°What a crock of shit. You¡¯re just distracting me. Will you do me a favor, Able? Shut the fuck up a minute while I work this out?¡± I focused on his sour expression as his face twitched at the insult of being told to shut up. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to kill me. Worse, he thought he was oh so much better than me. To give him his due, he hung about in the room for what must have been two hours as I failed again and again. But then I cracked it, and his name jumped up in front of me. I leaped into the air with the victory and read it out. Name: Levashin Lectun Title: Able of the Velkyn Arena Level: 39 Class: Mage/Tradesman ¡°That¡¯s kinda cool,¡± I said. ¡°And Level 39 That doesn¡¯t seem very high.¡± That brought another laugh from the guards. I checked the closest to me. Name: Nakira Umba Title: Veteran Guard of the Velkyn Arena Level: 19 Class: Warrior ¡°Hang on,¡± I said, thrusting an angry finger at the guard. ¡°Level 9 is shite, but he¡¯s only Level 19. How hard is it to get levels here? How high do levels go?¡± The Able nodded at the questions. Apparently, they were reasonable to ask. ¡°Level 18 is very respectable and takes hard work and diligence. Remember, not everyone in the Union is ascended. Perhaps thirty percent of the population, but probably less. As for level, in the distant past, there are those among the Archons who are said to have reached Level 100. No one actually believes that other than them. While it is theoretically possible, it would require you to be one of the best mages, Warriors and Tradesmen in the cosmos, all at once. Even the Archons will admit that those masters did not stay at the pinnacle for long.¡± ¡°Why would that be impossible?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy to answer. To be the best at anything, you must train every day to a high level for a good amount of time. To do that at elite level for three classes? There just isn¡¯t the time in the day. That being said, there are definitely a few Level 80s among the upper echelons of the Archon, Veloria, and most likely the Xeo.¡± ¡°Again. Not a clue what any of that means. I¡¯m more interested in how I get stronger.¡± ¡°So you can find your brother?¡± the Able said with a plain face. ¡°Pretty much. Now how do I look at my own stats?¡± ¡°With exactly the same method, but this time, look inward and preferably don¡¯t take two hours about it. I still have much to do today.¡± ¡°I¡¯m on it,¡± I said, feeling confident. Turns out, I was right to be confident because my own stats flashed up a minute later. Name: Earl Henshaw Title: 208th Ranked Pool Fighter of the Velkyn Arena Level: 9 Class: --- Stats: Progress in Class: ¡°The fuck is this shit?¡± I snapped more to myself. Pretending to cover his mirth, but making it abundantly obvious he thought the whole thing was hilarious, the Able answered. ¡°That is what it looks like to be Level 9. Though, as a first timer in viewing your stats, I imagine you have concerns about your class progress? If so, then do not fear. The Ascension System only works once you are ascended. You should rise in the Warrior class quickly enough at our arena. If you don¡¯t then¡­¡± He smiled again. ¡°I think you get the idea.¡± ¡°Oh yeah, you twat. I either die in the arena or I¡¯m sold to the highest bidder.¡± ¡°Exactly! I assume Toughness is your strongest stat?¡± ¡°Way to go, sherlock,¡± I muttered. His voice was starting to grate on me, and I was ready for him to go anywhere else but near me. Instead, he leaned forward. ¡°And it is?¡± I took another deep breath to stay calm at his patronizing tone. It didn¡¯t work, but I managed to answer through gritted teeth. ¡°16.¡± The mood in the room changed. ¡°What? No. That can¡¯t be right.¡± Even the guards looked uncomfortable. ¡°What can¡¯t be right? Why is that so hard to believe?¡± ¡°Well for starters, 16 is¡­ well, it is an incredible base Toughness score. Base Toughness is the score you¡¯re ascended with, and it generally dictates how easily you will be able to develop that stat. Honestly, Earl, 16 is¡­ it¡¯s incredible! But it leaves me with serious fear over your other stats. Dare I ask what your Mental Acuity is?¡± ¡°No. You can fucking guess for being a cheeky bastard.¡± ¡°9,¡± one of the guards said. ¡°Too low for Harmony,¡± the other guard said. ¡°Can¡¯t be higher than 7 which leaves a maximum of 6 for Harmony.¡± The Able spun on them, and for a moment, I thought he was going to burn them alive with his eyes, the anger in them. They both fell silent, and he turned back to me. ¡°Just tell me, Earl, what are the other two?¡± ¡°Well let¡¯s just say I won¡¯t be doing magic.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would be. But I take it from that, Harmony is very low?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Low would require a number. Both Harmony and the Mage class are crossed out. I don¡¯t have access to them at all. On the plus side, my Mental Acuity is 13, which makes sense.¡± Until that point, I didn¡¯t think white was an option for a purple-faced alien, but that¡¯s exactly the color the creep turned. Chapter 22 Adam An academy to get stronger? How bad could it be? Certainly no worse than what I¡¯d suffered over the last two weeks. As I considered the possibilities, a question formed. A small seed of hope. Could I learn how to make portals like the Augur made? It was a long shot, but I was ready for it. The Augur and the Warden were watching me closely. ¡°Are you ready?¡± I didn¡¯t need to reply. The Augur¡¯s portal made me ill, but it was a gateway to hope. I stepped through eagerly and stumbled onto white concrete. From the breeze, I knew we were outside, but it was the cleanest concrete floor I¡¯d ever seen. It was also a horrible place to throw up, but I managed to keep my feet on the ground and my stomach contents in my stomach. For now. Hands on knees, bent over, I focused on that floor to make sure it stayed that way. The Augur actually patted my back as he stepped through last. ¡°Good to see you¡¯ve toughened up, Earther. We might make a soldier of you yet.¡± It was unexpected praise, but I¡¯d take it. The jump hadn¡¯t affected me anywhere near as bad as the last, and I was proud of that. I raised a hand to thank him, swallowing repeatedly to make sure I didn¡¯t blow, not even daring to look up at my surroundings until I was certain. Thankfully, the nausea didn¡¯t take long to pass, and I was able to l look up and take in my new surroundings. Apparently, we were on the top of an enormous tower. The amount of information to take in was insane, yet amazing, nonetheless. In one direction was an immense city of golden spires, majestic flying creatures that I could only compare to dragons, and busy streets as far as the eye could see. To my other side was an incredibly wide rooftop that had multiple portals, opening and closing at regular intervals. ¡°We can¡¯t wait here forever, Adam.¡± It was the Warden. His voice was tight. Irritated. ¡°Are you well enough to move?¡± ¡°Yeah sure,¡± I said absently, trying to absorb everything and failing. ¡°Is this the academy?¡± The Augur laughed. ¡°No, you fool. It¡¯s the Irala Terminus,¡± ¡°That¡­ That¡¯s the name of the academy, though? Irala? Right?¡± ¡°We are on Irala,¡± the Warden explained. ¡°But Irala does not belong to House Garazal. We cannot just portal directly into their Warrior Mage Academy unannounced. So we must go through the designated portal.¡± That was too much information for my whirling mind, so I just nodded and let myself be led off. I had no idea how the two men navigated the place, but it was clear they knew what they were doing , leading me on an unerring path through the bustle of fellow portal users. I reflected, and not for the first time, that this was insane. It reminded me of the cleanest, but most messed up bus station I¡¯d ever witnessed. I started taking in details as we passed the numerous portals. Each one seemed to have a gemstone associated to it, and an operator who greeted the people who passed through. We approached a portal near the center. It had two operators, five Archon guards and eight gemstones, all a different shade of blue. ¡°Good day!¡± the Warden said as we approached. ¡°We are heading to the Irala Academy. Dean Erstine is expecting us.¡± ¡°Ah, yes! I received a message to expect you, Warden Anso. It is an honor to be of service, my lord.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Anso replied as if that was the most ordinary thing to say to someone who¡¯d just slavered all over you. But what did I know? A stranger in a strange land, I kept quiet and I watched. The operator picked out a crystal from his selection, while the other operator removed the crystal in place, causing the current portal to blink out of existance. I watched in awe at the efficiency that they went about their work, a new portal springing up in seconds. With barely a nod of thanks, Warden Anso walked through. I was prodded forward by the Augur, holding my breath as I stepped forward, wincing at the coming sickness. I didn¡¯t know whether I should be more amazed by the complete lack of discomfort, or the beautiful tree-lined courtyard. Fruit hung in the trees, and I eyed it hungrily. None of it I recognized, and I wasn¡¯t normally one for fruit, but I was ravenous. The sight of it had me salivating. ¡°Your new home for the next two years,¡± Anso said. I spun to see what he was talking about, and found behind me a long row of ornate buildings. They stood with age and importance. Each window was a fine brick archway, guarded by statues of armored figures. Archons, if I didn¡¯t miss my guess. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I wanted to stand a little longer and take it all in properly, but the two Archons were already moving, boots crunching as they walked with pride and purpose down the broad gravel path. I hurried after them like a dog, worried its master might get too far away and they might lose them. Unlike a dog, I dearly wanted to brutally savage my new masters. The walk was short, and ended in a cool hall that reeked of money and power. The receptionist held himself with the kind of haughty arrogance that suggested he owned the whole place. ¡°How can I help, Warden?¡± He glanced at me too, turned up his nose, and moved on to the Augur. ¡°Good morning. We are here with Adam Henshaw. A new student from House Garazal. He will be joining your year one class. Please could you let the Dean know we have arrived?¡± ¡°Preposterous,¡± he said with a second more inquisitive look at me. He clearly still didn¡¯t like what he saw and wrinkled his nose. ¡°We are over halfway through the academic year, and he is¡­¡± He opened a filing cabinet to his side and began flicking through files until he found what he was looking for. Nodding to himself with a satisfactory smile, he looked up at Anso. ¡°Here we are. The current weakest year one is at Level 19. If you are certain he meets the criteria to join our prestigious institution, then our next intake is in twenty-six cycles. Plenty of time to make up the shortcoming in level.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the Warden said, placing a hand on the desk. The receptionist nodded with sympathy and was about to speak again, possibly to offer condolences when the Warden continued. ¡°But the last time I checked the academy roster, your name did not come up as the Dean, nor the head of admissions.¡± His voice was cold and dangerous. The once smug receptionist was now rapidly shrinking under his glare. ¡°So why you have chosen to speak to me as you would a simpleton who does not know their own business is a mystery to me. A mystery I have no interest in solving. I will offer one piece of advice.¡± He leaned closer still, and I thought the receptionist was going to fall off his chair. ¡°DO NOT presume to know my business better than I do. I am a Warden of House Garazal and Marshal for the UCPF. I know what I am about. Now, if you wouldn¡¯t mind, please let the Dean know we are here. We will walk to his office now, so try not to be as incompetent in that duty as you have proven in the fine art of greeting people to your fine academy, or she will no doubt be very upset when we arrive unannounced.¡± He stammered to find a reply. It sounded like he was trying to form an apology, but it was too late for him. We were already heading down a corridor deeper into the building. The Dean was an older Archon. How old I had no idea, but her face showed a shadow of wrinkles around her eyes, and her golden hair had been almost completely replaced with silver, though no less vibrant. She smiled as we entered, and I checked her details. Name: Malai Erstine Title: Dean of Irala Academy Level: 43 Class: Mage/Warrior/Tradesman I goggled at the score and the trinity of paths. This was a powerful Archon and someone I definitely didn¡¯t want to get on the wrong side of if I had any hope of sneaking out of here. ¡°Ah, Warden Anso!¡± She seemed to float over the floor as she moved to greet us. ¡°How lovely to see you after so long. I hear you have been terrorizing my staff?¡± ¡°They terrorized themselves with stupidity,¡± he replied, though he too smiled. A first to my eyes. ¡°And this is the mysterious dross portal find? Let¡¯s have a look at him.¡± She came to stand in front of me, around the same height, though she felt taller with her bearing. She proceeded to look me up and down as if I was something a dog had just dropped on her sparklingly clean floor. ¡°He is weak. The weakest in the academy by a wide margin.¡± ¡°He is highly competent. Well trained in martial matters and his base stats were strong.¡± ¡°Not to mention he developed a Mage skill without help or training,¡± Augur Stannis added. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Anso added. ¡°He has already encountered many hardships culminating in an instinctual talent. Far too dangerous to leave in a work colony until next intake.¡± The Dean¡¯s eyes hadn¡¯t left me as they spoke. They seemed to look through me, and deep into me at the same time. Her bright, sapphire eyes flashed with excitement. ¡°Discovering the path alone is something of a double-edged sword. It can speak as much to being unhinged as it can to a talent. I wonder. Which is it?¡± I wasn¡¯t exactly sure she was asking me a direct question, nor how to answer it if she was. I remained silent rather than overstepping the mark. ¡°Answer me, boy. Are you unhinged?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not an easy question to answer.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± she fired back before I could catch a breath. ¡°Because unhinged is an opinion.¡± She smiled. ¡°I disagree, but I also see your point. In your opinion, are you unhinged?¡± I shrugged. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then we have an answer. See, it was easy in the end. Don¡¯t over think everything, Adam, trust your gut.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I agreed. Though overthinking wasn¡¯t something you could just turn off. She returned her attention to Anso, and I deflated. ¡°It will be difficult to integrate him. Many of his peers will attempt to exploit the racial and level disadvantage. I hope you understand that I am not a babysitter here, nor can I be seen to be showing favor. But...¡± She looked back and waved a hand at me. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen so far, he should fare well. I will house him with our other Union students.¡± Anso nodded along as she spoke, face neutral, but I could see he¡¯d already thought of all this. I, on the other hand, wondered what other types of students there would be apart from Union students. With a motherly expression, she directed her next words at me. ¡°Archons make up the vast majority of our students. Out of all the races in the Union, it is we who produce the highest rate of those suited to be a Warrior Mage. They will not appreciate your arrival.¡± She sighed, eyes flicking back to Anso for a brief second before returning to me. ¡°For my sake, please, turn the other cheek when you can, and try not to complain or cause too much trouble when you can¡¯t. Life is hard, and it''s unfair no matter where you look. No matter how arrogant the offender, they will have suffered in their past, and they will suffer again in their future. We all will. That is the nature of life. That is why you should enjoy it when you can, and keep your head down when you cannot. Do you understand?¡± ¡°I understand. I will be the perfect student.¡± ¡°Good, now take this,¡± she said, pulling a square of parchment from a pigeon hole shelf on the wall. With a few seconds worth of quill swishes, she handed it over to me. Gingerly, I stepped forward and took it. For that brief moment, both our hands were on it, and she met my eyes. ¡°Take that to the school office. We should not need to cross paths again until the inter-academies end-of-year tournament.¡± I looked to both the Warden and the Augur, who pointedly ignored me, and then I left the room alone. Baffled that I was allowed to go by myself without an escort. Chapter 23-Adam Outside of the room, I stood in a state of shock, trying to process everything. A brief revisit of my options threw up the same results. Any attempted escape at this point would achieve nothing. I probably wouldn¡¯t make it over the high walls of the academy, let alone off the planet. What it would do would draw further scrutiny and less trust. No, the trick would be to appear as though I¡¯d accepted my lot in life. I had approximately sixty-two days before the portal on Unalar closed, and I was in a place of learning. I took in the impressive hallway. Wide, arched windows let in an abundance of light from the gardens. Everything was well maintained to the highest level. It looked like a good place. Clean and fresh, and so far, I¡¯d been treated well. It could be the perfect place to learn portals. Decision made, I marched back down the corridor with purpose. Heels clicking, arms swinging the appropriate amount. All anyone would see was someone who belonged here. Apart from the rags. When I returned to the reception, the Archon behind the desk narrowed his eyes at me, hostile and silent. ¡°From the Dean,¡± I said with as little emotion as possible as I handed over the note. He scanned it, looked even more unhappy, then tapped on a small, milky white stone set in the dark wood of the desk. Six taps in total. Three short, two long, one short. Then he filed away the parchment and proceeded to ignore me. I stood, waiting and hoping that I wouldn¡¯t have to point out how monumentally rude they were being. The Warden had definitely put me at a disadvantage with how he had spoken to the receptionist, but I didn¡¯t want to have to make that worse on my first hour here. Moments later, an Archon appeared from one of the many corridors that led away from the entrance area. I had to fight to stop my jaw hitting the floor. She was breathtakingly beautiful, dressed in a tight-fitting, navy uniform, with gold thread at the seams and the Academy Emblem on the chest. I was mesmerized by her as she crossed the hall with straight-backed elegance. Alien or not, I wanted to know more. Name: Aeloria Besas Title: Scion of House Besas ¨C Irala Prefect 1st year Level: 21 Class: Warrior/Mage A Warrior Mage like me! A good conversation starter, I reckoned. Though I was suddenly and painfully aware of the rags I wore. I hadn¡¯t seen my hair since I left Earth, but I couldn¡¯t imagine after being burned off over two weeks ago that it was a visual treat. I suppose I should have counted myself lucky that she seemed completely and utterly oblivious to my presence. As I considered the mechanics and possibilities of interracial romances should I be able to tidy myself up enough, she marched to the reception desk. ¡°How may I be of assistance?¡± Her voice was at odds with her appearance. Devoid of inflection or emotion, she could have been an android. In reply and with a truly bitter expression, the receptionist indicated me. ¡°In her infinite wisdom, the Dean has permitted a late addition to the Novice year group. This¡­ male of unknown racial origin is to be housed with the other¡­¡± He gave me another withering look. ¡°¡­He is to be housed in dorm 14A. Would you please escort him to his new quarters.¡± The woman, who I suspected might have been a fellow student despite the ageless appearance, had her hands on her hips and was glaring at me like I¡¯d massacred her whole family. ¡°What madness is this? A Level 16 introduced so late in the year? It makes no sense.¡± ¡°Yet,¡± the receptionist drawled slowly, ¡°that is exactly what the Dean has requested after receiving a special request from House Garazal.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. That seemed to get under Scion Aeloria¡¯s skin. ¡°Is that so? My father will be very interested in hearing this development.¡± ¡°I have no doubt,¡± the receptionist agreed, and I saw a light of victory in their eyes. I couldn¡¯t know for sure, but I suspected I¡¯d already blundered into the center of some political situation between these houses. I just hoped it didn¡¯t become a problem for me. ¡°Very well,¡± she said to the receptionist, then turned back to me with a look bordering disgust. ¡°You may follow me. Please remain a least five paces behind me at all times.¡± What could I say? A thousand things sprung to mind, but none of them were pleasant. I kept my expression neutral and nodded. Satisfied, she spun on her heel and marched off down the same corridor she¡¯d arrived from. Despite my initial awe at how incredible she looked, I had such a seething hatred of snotty, self-important bastards. Now all I saw was the self-important walk. The rigid set of her shoulders. The arrogant swish of her ponytail. The mesmerizing sway of her hips. Fuck. I still hated her, and would make an effort to avoid any future interaction. Instead of focusing on her, I tried to memorize the routes we were taking. I figured at some point that I¡¯d be left to my own devices, and I¡¯d need to know my way around this warren. I counted turns from the reception and took note of landmarks until we finally arrived at room 14. The numerals were there, but there was no A in sight. Slowly turning, she gestured to the door. ¡°This is where you are staying. Someone in their infinite wisdom has decided they would treat you like Archons. You are not an Archon. You will never be an Archon. We are an ancient and powerful race who many consider to be the chosen of the universe.¡± I wonder who thinks that, I thought as she pushed the door open, and I entered. ¡°Do you not speak? Or are you too simple to articulate an adequate response?¡± I mulled it over and frowned. ¡°What¡¯s there to say?¡± She huffed. ¡°Simple courtesy would suffice. An acknowledgment that I have just guided you to your room.¡± ¡°You were made to do it. If you¡¯re looking for thanks, go back to the reception and demand it there.¡± I cursed myself immediately. So much for keeping a low profile. Her expression changed to one of complete and utter bewilderment. I guessed my smartarse response didn¡¯t land right with her. ¡°What manner of wretch are you?¡± ¡°Are we finished?¡± I asked flatly. Then without any idea of what awaited behind me, I slowly closed the door, holding her outraged eye contact until the door blocked the awkward standoff. To my relief, she didn¡¯t cause any more drama and let me close the door. With a sigh, I turned to take in my new dorms. I half-expected there to be someone in there, watching the exchange and more than willing to continue it in defense of my tour guide. But it was empty. The walls were whitewashed, with four beds evenly spaced, and a cool seating area in the center of the room with three couches in a u-shape surrounding a low table. It was a clean room, but there were belongings scattered about here and there. I inspected each bed and found that they all showed signs of being occupied. I shrugged. The soft leather couches looked comfortable enough, especially after two weeks of sleeping on hard floors. At the back of the room, there was a food prep area. Nothing much, just a long, smooth, white counter with an inbuilt sink. There was nowhere to cook, which I found odd, but it was my first few minutes here. I was certain all would become clear in time. There were a few wooden containers on the worktop, and I lifted the lids on them. In the first, there was fruit. Not normally my go to food, but then beggars can¡¯t be choosers. And after twelve days sustained only by the magic that was also torturing me, followed by three days of eating one bowl of stew a day after hard labor, I had the kind of deep hunger that superseded preference. I wanted calories, and I didn¡¯t care where I got them from. None of the fruit looked familiar, and I didn¡¯t want to poison myself eating something that needed to be cooked first, so I held off for a moment and checked the second container. Joy! The unbridled kind. A hunk of bread sat in the bottom looking about as beautiful as any half loaf of bread I¡¯d ever seen. The temptation was there to just pick the gorgeous little bundle up and tuck in. But I didn¡¯t want to totally alienate myself with my room mates before they got here. I found a cutlery drawer under the unit and found a knife to cut myself a couple of slices. Quickly returning everything as it was, I had a vain hope of no one noticing that the bread had diminished. Satisfied that I¡¯d covered my tracks, I carried the remaining slice of bread I hadn¡¯t already scarfed, and sat on the closest couch to eat it in comfort. After eating, I tried to relax and prepare for the arrival of my new roommates. I had to make a good impression. That much was sure. But the longer I sat, the heavier my eyelids grew. I was exhausted after having not slept properly for some time now. I got up and splashed water on my face. Did a few stretches and sat down again, feeling fresher and more alert. The next thing I knew, I was blinking rapidly, heart beating like a drum as I was torn from sleep by a booming voice. ¡°What in Grogir¡¯s second arsehole is this?¡± For a few seconds, I didn¡¯t have a clue where I was. As my vision cleared and finally linked up to my mind, I found a strapping Grunir standing over me, fists clenched like hams, and a long, brown beard that quivered with indignation. Chapter 24- Adam I jumped up, trying to act calm. ¡±Hey. I¡¯m Adam.¡± ¡°I can see that! It¡¯s written above your little fucking head!¡± ¡°Fair point,¡± I laughed, trying to ease the tension. It didn¡¯t look as though it would work as anger radiated from every pore. ¡°Why are you sitting in our dorm?¡± He thrust a chunky finger into my chest. There was an element of the ridiculous to the scene. Now that I was on my feet, I towered above him by over a foot. If I had to guess, I¡¯d put him at around five feet tall at best. Five feet wide as well. His own version of the navy and gold uniform barely contained his wide shoulders. I expected he was used to being shorter in most confrontations, and it didn¡¯t seem to bother him. I brought his identifier up so that I could get a better idea of who I was speaking too. Name: Torma Heldrin Title: Foot of the Ironguard Level: 19 Class: Warrior/Mage/Tradesman All three classes. That seemed impressive, along with the title. ¡°I was sent here by the Dean. New roommate. I¡¯m to finish the year in the academy.¡± ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve been through a rough time,¡± a female figure said, appearing from behind me like she¡¯d stepped out of a shadow. She was dressed in a loose-fitting example of the uniform with trousers more like Buddha pants, and a thick navy cloak. She looked to be of the same race as the Mine Mage, though she looked younger, healthier, and a little taller coming up to my shoulder. Name: Ressa Nessoran Title: Duchess of Nessoran Level: 20 Class: Warrior/Mage I judged quickly whether I should tell them everything, and decided I didn¡¯t have a better story to tell them and they¡¯d probably find out most of it anyway. So with a deep breath, I laid it all out bare. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve not had a good couple of weeks. I was captured from my planet by Unalaran hunters and sold to Archons. Apparently, the portal to my planet is only open for eighty days, and after that, it closes for around fifty years. After that, I was put in a torture box for twelve days before being made to work in a mine for three days.¡± ¡°Oof, rough ride,¡± Torma muttered, seeming to have lost all of his earlier hostility. He wandered off toward the kitchen area. Duchess Ressa continued to watch me with interest, a wry smile on her face. ¡°They actually made you go in the Ennochamber?¡± ¡°Yeah. Have you been in one before?¡± She snorted. ¡°Hardly. They only use them for super low-level people. But then, if you were just taken, I assume your base level needed a little help?¡± On one hand, she seemed friendly, which was good, but I also knew why I was put here now. The Union students made sense now in the context of a stuck-up Archon saying it. Basically, any student who wasn¡¯t Archon. But I did have one huge concern. So far, everyone I¡¯d met had an impressive sounding title, just when I thought I couldn¡¯t feel any more out of place. ¡°Why did they move you out of the mining camp?¡± Torma asked. ¡°Seems to me they¡¯d have been better off continuing to level you there until next year¡¯s class.¡± ¡°Because he¡¯s unlocked Mage, Torma,¡± the Duchess said in a mocking tone. ¡°Come on, use that rockhead of yours.¡± He grunted and then frowned as he looked in the bread container. His eyes rose up slowly to look at me, all traces of good humor vanished. ¡°It appears my bread is diminished. Any idea, Adam of no title?¡± ¡°Never mind that,¡± Ressa snapped at him, then focused on me again. ¡°What was your base Harmony?¡± This I felt a little more uncomfortable with sharing. But I was trying to make friends here, and I couldn¡¯t see what harm it would do. ¡°14.¡± Both of their eyebrows raised at that. ¡°Damn. That¡¯s impressive,¡± she said. ¡°What was yours?¡± I asked. ¡°That is a very personal question,¡± she said with an offended huff. ¡°You can¡¯t just go around asking people what their base Harmony is.¡± Torma chuckled. ¡°What? You just asked me!¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she said, slowly walking around me, looking me up and down like a piece of meat. ¡°Because it¡¯s very interesting information and I suspected you didn¡¯t know how rude it was to ask. Consider it your first lesson here. Don¡¯t tell anyone your base stats. Especially in this Archon cesspit. Every edge you¡¯ve got against the arrogant fools counts.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I supposed it made sense. I offered her a double thumbs up. ¡°Did I say 14? I meant 12.¡± She laughed and dropped into the next couch along. ¡°You¡¯ll do well here, Adam. I think I like you already. And 14 Harmony? You could be a top Mage one day, let alone a Warrior mage.¡± ¡°How¡¯s your fighting?¡± Torma asked, coming around the couch with the remainder of the bread. ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s decent. I¡¯ve got no idea what the level of skill is like here, so it¡¯s hard to compare.¡± Two more people walked into the room, both as eye catching as the other but for different reasons. The first was a huge figure, with bone-white skin, easily as big as the Unalarans. His uniformed top looked to be spray-painted on, showing every single ridge of muscle. He had a smooth bald head and eyes like black orbs with no visible sclera. His thin lipless mouth widened into a terrifyingly wide smile as he saw me. Name: Yoru Yara Title: Level: 20 Class: Warrior/Mage Behind him came a red-skinned woman, and she looked small in comparison, but I guessed she was a similar height to Ressa, around five-foot-six. But where Ressa looked slim despite her baggy uniform, the newcomer was heavily muscled, wearing a navy vest that kept her arms free, and loose-fitting trousers allowing for maximum mobility, I guessed. Her catlike eyes were yellow with slitted pupils, and they were firmly fixed on me. She grimaced to reveal a row of sharp teeth, complete with extended canines. Name: Ellaazi Stormhold Title: Initiate of Roak Level: 19 Class: Warrior/Mage I realized she wasn¡¯t grimacing at me, but the bread in Torma¡¯s hand. ¡°You ate it all,¡± she growled. With a quick head shake and a grin, he pointed a thick, accusing finger at me. ¡°Our new roommate snaffled your half.¡± Once again, I raised my hands in a conciliatory gesture. ¡°Yeah, sorry, I wasn¡¯t sure of the etiquette here, but¡­¡± She leaped across the room in a terrifying burst of speed. I could have dodged if I was in any way prepared for the suddenness of the move. Instead, I fell back into the couch with her hands on my chest, sharp nails digging in, and her feet either side of my waist. ¡°¡­I was starving.¡± The words came out way higher pitched than I would have liked. ¡°So you stole my bread?¡± Her face was only inches away from mine now. ¡°Probably should have tried some fruit,¡± the mountain named Yoru said, plonking down next to me. ¡°Ressa and I are not half so precious.¡± ¡°Yess!¡± Ellaazi hissed. ¡°Fruit. Take fruit! No one will miss that.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t happen again,¡± I promised, gently trying to push her back. ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize any of the fruit. For all I know, it could poison me. Bread seemed a safe choice and¡­¡± She pushed her claws a little deeper, not quite breaking cloth or skin, but it hurt. ¡°Eating bread can kill you too,¡± she warned, then leaped off me and stalked away to her bed, laying down on it facing away from us, clearly sulking. Yoru patted my shoulder with a huge hand. ¡°They should have delivered more snacks for your coming if they knew. Typical that they didn¡¯t. Not even a bed for you.¡± ¡°He smells like a greedy rat,¡± Ellaazi said from her bed. She¡¯d rolled over and was glaring at me. ¡°He should sleep on the floor.¡± ¡°Come on, Ellaazi,¡± Ressa said. ¡°He said it was an accident and he won¡¯t do it again. Be nice to our new friends.¡± ¡°He¡¯s no friend of mine. I don¡¯t like his smell.¡± She rolled back the other way, huffing to show her continued anger at me. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t like the smell of me either,¡± I replied, trying to ease the tension with her a little. ¡°I¡¯ve been in these clothes since I was taken.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t want to say anything,¡± Ressa replied. ¡°But you should definitely get a wash.¡± She pointed behind the kitchen. ¡°There¡¯s a tub through the back.¡± I hadn¡¯t even noticed another door. ¡°That¡¯d be great¡­ I, er, is there anywhere to wash clothes?¡± I gestured to my ruined rags which now had additional holes in the chest from my brief interaction with Ellaazi. ¡°Those need burning not washing,¡± Yoru suggested, putting his feet up on the coffee table and leaning back with hands behind head. ¡°Have they not even sorted your uniform out yet?¡± ¡°I think it was all a bit rushed, so I doubt anything¡¯s been sorted out for me. These are the clothes I have. Hell, this is everything I have.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll definitely get a uniform,¡± Ressa said. ¡°You won¡¯t be allowed in class without one. They pride themselves on it so we¡¯re all equal here. Apparently.¡± I chuckled at the sarcasm. ¡°How¡¯s that working out for you all?¡± I asked. ¡°About as well as you¡¯d expect,¡± she replied with a grin. ¡°Tell you what, though. You get in the shower. I¡¯ll go up to reception and see if we can sort you some clothes out until they fit you for your uniform.¡± I was genuinely shocked by the offer. ¡±You would?¡± ¡°I just said I would,¡± she replied with a frown. ¡°But now I¡¯m not sure if I want to. Don¡¯t you know how to take somebody at their word?¡± ¡°Sometimes, but we already have history over the Harmony thing, don¡¯t we?¡± She shrugged, a cheeky smirk crept on her face. ¡°Do we have towels or anything?¡± She nodded. ¡°Yes, plenty of clean laundry through there. Just don¡¯t use the brown ones.¡± ¡°The brown ones?¡± I was curiously. ¡°They¡¯re Yoru¡¯s. He has¡­ tummy troubles now and then¡±. The man-mountain next to me bristled. ¡°You¡­¡± He looked to me. ¡°I¡­¡± Torma laughed. ¡°Poor cleaning staff couldn¡¯t get the stains out first week, so now they just deliver brown towels and save themselves the trouble.¡± Yoru finally managed to pull his words together into an outraged but mostly coherent sentence. ¡°It was once! I am being punished by the hierarchy ever since! Institutional bullying, I tell you. And when I graduate and become a powerful Warrior Mage, there will be repercussions!¡± Chuckling at the interaction, I also decided it was a good time to extricate myself from the conversation. As I passed the counter, my stomach rumbled, and I pointed at the fruit container. ¡°Any of the fruit edible straight away?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Ressa said. ¡°And you¡¯ll be glad to know, there¡¯s plenty going spare as only Yoru and I eat it.¡± ¡°Try the pink one with the green spines,¡± Yoru said. ¡°It¡¯s my favorite, and before you ask, no, it doesn¡¯t cause toilet issues.¡± ¡°Good to know,¡± I said, picking one up. It was hard and unyielding like a plastic toy. ¡°Any special way to eat it?¡± ¡°Throw me one over,¡± he said. I launched the star-shaped fruit in his direction. He snatched it from the air and took a mighty bite straight into the middle. His broad, flat teeth sunk in effortlessly, and he began to chew, looking happy as a pig in shit. I nodded appreciatively, picked up another and took a bite of my own. My teeth sank in a little on the pink flesh, but the green ridges were like biting into a tree branch. Bitter juice squirted into my mouth. Heat rushed to my face and my eyes began to stream uncontrollably. ¡°Gah! What the hell!¡± It was spicy and bitter all at once. Burning and stinging, my lips and inside my mouth felt like I¡¯d drunk acid. Everyone was laughing apart from Yoru, who was still happily munching the horrid thing. Even Ellaazi had rolled over to face me again so that I could see her laughter. ¡°You not like it?¡± Yoru finally asked, wide grin stretching his face. I was too busy splashing water into my mouth and across my face from the sink. ¡°It is considered a delicacy on my planet. Maybe you prefer something sweeter?¡± He walked over and nudged an oval, yellow fruit toward me. I recoiled. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take a shower and work out what¡¯s edible later, thanks.¡± Chapter 25-Adam Only Torma was left in the room when I returned from the bath wrapped in towels. I¡¯d folded my old, dirty clothes just in case I needed them, but I really didn¡¯t want to put them back on if I didn¡¯t have to. The Grunir was stretched out on his bed, snoring gently. His huge arms behind his big block of a head. I scanned the room hoping Ressa would be back with a change of clothes. It was only then that I noticed an extra bed had materialized, complete with a uniform and a selection of underwear, piled neatly. There were no shoes, but I could live with that, and the sandals the Unalarans had supplied me with were still reasonable. I was beyond pleased that I had something else to wear, but also a little surprised that someone had gone to such efforts for me while I had lounged in a bath. Still, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I headed over quickly and began to get ready as quietly as I could, determined not to wake Torma. As I lifted the long-sleeved t-shirt, a handwritten note fluttered to the floor. I finished dressing first, the uniform sitting a little big on me, but not horribly so. Then I read the note. I¡¯ve never known anyone take so long getting washed. We¡¯ve gone down to the canteen for evening meal. Torma said he¡¯d wait behind for you, because he wanted some beauty sleep. Once you¡¯re ready, wake him up and he¡¯ll bring you along. I looked over at the sleeping Grunir and sighed. A meal sounded fantastic. Waking this guy up did not. Still, this was about the best situation I¡¯d been in since being captured, so what the hell. I pulled on the shirt, noticing the brand on my shoulder for the first time since it had happened, and growing irritated that it had been done. Twenty-one years I¡¯d navigated life without tattoos, and now I¡¯d been branded. I studied it a little longer, and now that the redness had gone down, I could see that it was the same insignia the Warden and Mage had worn on their jackets. A circle with a columned building, with a lightning bolt behind it. I guessed it was the emblem of House Garazal. I was glad to cover it up, and if I could help it, never think of it again. I had enough on my plate without that constant reminder of my slavery. Once I¡¯d pulled on all the clothes and slipped my sandals back on, I checked myself in a bedside mirror. I looked thinner than I had been, and my short fuzz of slowly returning hair a similar length to the growing beard looked a mess, but otherwise, I looked healthy. I spent longer than I should have staring at my reflection, trying to gather my thoughts. When I failed, I turned to the sleeping Grunir and headed over. Not wanting to shock him awake, I walked over and shook him gently. ¡°Hey, Torma. Time for dinner.¡± He might as well have been dead for all the reaction he made. I went back over to the kitchen, moving noisily now. I turned on the tap and looked over. Still nothing. I pulled a knife out from the drawer, looked forlornly at the missing bread, then took hold of the yellow fruit Yoru had suggested after tricking me. I cut it in half with an over the top hack which cut through in one and smacked into the stone counter. Wincing at dulling the sharp blade like that, I looked up hopeful that it might have had the desired effect on the drooling Grunir. ¡°Well,¡± I said, looking at the two pieces of fruit, badly halved, ¡°Looks like it¡¯s just me and you for dinner.¡± With a tentative poke, I tested one of the halves. It had the texture and consistency of an orange, or any citrus fruit really. But unlike them, it had no segments. It was just one solid mass. Gingerly I lifted my finger to my mouth to test it. ¡°Ooh, I wouldn¡¯t eat that one. That¡¯s the worst of all.¡± I looked up to see Torma watching me, grinning. There was something about his general demeanor that prompted me to lick the end of my finger anyway. To nobody¡¯s surprise, it tasted delicious. It tasted like a sweet grapefruit, with an unusual but lovely taste of coconut. Torma chuckled to himself as I scooped some more of the flesh out from the skin and shoved it into my mouth. ¡°Good, huh?¡± He laughed as he pulled on his boots. ¡°Very,¡± I mumbled over sticky lips. ¡°Dinner will be better. Gotta hand it to this place, it might be full of pompous pricks, but they know how to feed us.¡± His eyes seemed to go distant for a moment, then he added, ¡°Not as good as home cooking from Svadelhem, but decent.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. What meals do we actually get served here?¡± ¡°Breakfast and evening meal. All this stuff here is just for a snack if we get hungry through the day. Basically, a fruit basket, loaf of bread, and some ham.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t see any ham.¡± ¡°And you never will, because I pop back in between lessons and eat it all before anyone else gets any. Ress doesn¡¯t care, Yoru doesn¡¯t eat meat, and Ellaazi doesn¡¯t know we get it or I¡¯d have a fight on my hands. If you¡¯re really eager to see it, I¡¯ll have a steamer after evening meal. I¡¯ll leave it in the pot for you to check over and see what you¡¯re missing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good, thanks. I can live without ham if they¡¯re feeding us morning and night. Unless, of course, they bring more to make up for me being here.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll eat that as well. No stop button when it comes to smoked meats. Speaking of which, are you ready to go eat?¡± He was out of the door before I could answer, and I had to hurry to catch up with him. I was glad to have the company as the halls so empty on my arrival here were now teaming with uniformed Archons. Most of the women were similar height to me, and generally there wasn¡¯t much range of height among them. The men were all similar to the Warden, around six-six. I expected to be stared at like an oddity, especially with my hair and beard still looking like a fuzzball, and my sandals flapping on the floor. Nothing could have been further from the truth. We were ignored so completely that I started worrying I might be invisible. To his credit, Torma ignored them with equal amount of skill and made no special effort to avoid collisions. It didn¡¯t take long before I heard a growing clamor. The kind of wall of sound that only a busy cafe or bar without music could create. A few more turns and we strode into a massive canteen. Hot counters lined the center. I could have done with a moment to take it all in, but Torma was a moth to the flame and charged headlong to the plates. I was hungry, and I wanted to eat everything that smelled good. But I only had one plate, and I was conscious that some of this stuff might be absolutely foul. That said, taking in the smells and general appearance, I suspected that the Archons¡¯ taste in food might not be too dissimilar to my own. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. I ladled a steaming meat dish that smelled of beef and onions, followed by a cream-colored grain that looked like rice or wheat. Finally, I grabbed a couple of warm bread rolls. Torma stacked his plate with all sorts and everything. He seemed to know exactly what he was getting as he made Jenga towers on his plate with roasted animal parts. He handled the plate with expert skill as we navigated our way through the tables. There was one long table, right at the back of the canteen. There sat around eighteen non-Archon students, including my roommates. A brief scan of a few of their levels showed they were all higher than the four I knew. I guessed they were from higher years. There was only one race that I hadn¡¯t seen yet. Extremely tall and thin, with pale blue skin, I wasn¡¯t sure if they were male or female, but they reminded me of the aliens in avatar, only without the hair and neural connectors. The most numerous race by far was whatever Ressa was. There were eleven of them, four Grunir and another the same race as Yoru. ¡°You made it then?¡± Ressa said as we came in to sit. ¡°Not that I should be surprised. Torma¡¯s body clock for dinner is legendary.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± I agreed. ¡°How on Earth did you get a bed into the room so quickly?¡± ¡°There was spare bed linen in the closet,¡± Yoru said. Ressa nodded and then ran a lazy finger up and down in my direction. ¡°The uniform was the hardest thing. Fucking Archons try to make everything difficult for us. If it wasn¡¯t for the Dean walking by the reception at the time and overhearing, you¡¯d have been in your old rags. Someone somewhere must like you, because with a few sharp words, they had porters sprinting around to get you a bed and a uniform delivered. Dunno who guessed your size, but they weren¡¯t far wrong, and we can get you more later. And some shoes that fit.¡± ¡°Thanks. I really appreciate it.¡± ¡°No problem. Life¡¯s hard enough here without standing out like a sore thumb for the wrong reasons.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Yoru boomed, before grabbing a hand full of cabbage and potato cubes¡ªat least that¡¯s what it looked like to me¡ªand ramming them in his mouth. Ellaazi, I noticed, still hadn¡¯t spoken to me, and sat silently with her arms around her meal like she was protecting it from thieves. After Yoru finished chewing, he waved at me to get my attention. It was completely unnecessary, but some people were just weird. ¡°What lessons have you chosen?¡± I frowned and saw a look of exasperation on Ressa¡¯s face. ¡°Of course, they haven¡¯t covered that with you yet either,¡± she snapped. ¡°Did they literally just say, yes you can join and then threw you in our room?¡± I thought about it, then nodded. ¡°Yep. That¡¯s exactly what happened. What classes are there? I suppose I expected fighting classes and magic classes.¡± That brought a snort form Torma, but he didn¡¯t stop eating. ¡°There are many classes, and it¡¯s a big decision. I¡¯d focus on what your weakest with at base level.¡± Ellaazi shuffled and grunted at that. Something in what Ressa had said had annoyed her. She was easy enough to ignore as I thought over Ressa¡¯s words. ¡°Toughness and Mental Acuity were my lowest.¡± Yoru leaned forward with a smile. ¡°Then it¡¯s simple. Focus on your Physical until it¡¯s not a weakness.¡± Ressa shook her head. ¡°That can¡¯t be right, though. I¡¯d have expected a low Mental Acuity. How else could you have pulled off an Unalaran Hunter¡¯s helmet in the middle of a battle.¡± All three of our roommates turned to watch me at that news. ¡°You heard about that, huh?¡± I asked, full of suspicion. She gave me a wide smile, eyes darting about to check if anyone was listening. ¡°Nothing stays secret here very long. And I have good contacts.¡± ¡°Yeah, well, it wasn¡¯t half so impressive as it sounds. We fought, I managed to mount his back, and grab his helmet rim. Then another Hunter grabbed me and dragged me off his back like a baby, and the helmet came with me.¡± Yoru cleared his throat. ¡°For an unascended to achieve a feat such as that, and your Toughness is your lowest¡­ Something is not right.¡± Ressa picked up the slack. ¡°What¡¯s your background? What did you do on your planet?¡± ¡°I¡¯d just become a soldier. Before that, I was a boxer¡­ a fighter. Fists only,¡± I clarified. ¡°Though, I¡¯ve trained in a number of different disciplines. Sometimes it feels like the only thing I am good at is fighting.¡± ¡°Being a boxer sounds horrible,¡± Torma grumbled. ¡°Why would anybody restrict fighting to just fists when there are weapons to be used!¡± I shrugged. ¡°I never found it restrictive. I enjoyed it. I felt freedom in it.¡± Ressa leaned in now, eyes glinting as if she¡¯d found some clue to a mystery I hadn¡¯t realized she was trying to solve. ¡°Sounds like you were good at it. So why did you quit?¡± ¡°I was good, very good. Why I quit¡­ well, that¡¯s a long story that I don¡¯t much feel like reliving right now.¡± To her credit, she backed off immediately. As curious as a cat, but seemingly very respectful too. ¡°You will show me boxing,¡± Ellaazi said with zero respect but with the eyes and instincts of a cat. ¡°I love all fighting forms¡ªthis sounds like something I could get into.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± Torma said, saving me from having to go to deep into a conversation with Ellaazi. ¡°Of course, but I think we¡¯ve deviated from the point. We were talking about classes. Is there anywhere I could learn to make portals?¡± That brought a round of laughter from all who were listening. Ressa stopped first and calmy explained, ¡°You won¡¯t learn that here. You¡¯d have to go to a pure Mage academy for that. For a start, it¡¯s not a single spell, but a combination of skills and items. You need navigation magic, a portable portal stone, be at least Level 25 in your mage class, and¡­ I think it¡¯s around Level 30 in Harmony to put them all together, but I¡¯d have to check my facts on that. All I know is that you won¡¯t be learning anything like that here. In the Irala Academy, if it isn¡¯t offensive or defensive magic, then we don¡¯t learn it.¡± I fought to keep the despair from my face. But I felt like I¡¯d just been kicked in the gut, and I struggled to recover. My one big hope to get home had just been brutally torn from me. I still burned her words into my memory of what I¡¯d need to make it happen. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Yoru asked, while Ressa just looked concerned and Torma and Ellaazi ate their rapidly diminishing heaps of food. ¡°Fine. And I know what classes I¡¯m going to take. I already know how to fight, but I know nothing about magic, so I want to put all my focus on that. I¡¯ll take any and all magic lessons.¡± Ressa winced and shook her head. ¡°They won¡¯t let you. You need to choose a mix. Military History, Healing, Unarmed Combat, Military Strategy and Command and Leadership are mandatory. There are seven lessons every cycle, and you must choose at least three mage- and three military-based lessons. It gets really complicated when you have to balance conflicts. Rest assured, you won¡¯t get to do everything that¡¯s available.¡± Torma growled and smacked the table. ¡°Like Enchantment and Defensive Weapons. It¡¯s like they¡¯re trying to exclude Grunir, pulling that shit.¡± ¡°Well, this sounds like a minefield. Can you give me a rundown of the lessons?¡± Ressa shook her head. ¡°Better to just show you a timetable. I only have mine, but between us, I¡¯m sure we can fill in the blanks.¡± ¡°I have the original,¡± Yoru said. ¡°And if you can choose tonight, we might be able to get you signed up for classes tomorrow. It appears to me that you have a great deal of catching up to do.¡± After dinner, we headed back to the dorm with Yoru leading the way at a fair old march. Like Torma, none of my roommates paid the Archons any mind. The moment we entered the dorm, Yoru made for his bedside unit and set to work raking though the papers stored inside. It took a minute, but he finally pulled out a sheet and brandished it for all to see. ¡°The complete time table!¡± He thrust it at me, and while I still hadn¡¯t gotten over the mocking disbelief when I said I wanted to create portals, I still scanned through it with an eye on doing just that. Better to be prepared, should the opportunity present itself.
1st class 2nd Class 3rd Class
Lho Military History Ranged Weapons / Defensive Magic Logistics and Supply Lines or Aetheric Magic
Tei Heavy Weapons / Divination Healing Command and Leadership Espionage / Evocation
Sai Dueling Weapons / Battlefield Magic Siege Craft / Illusion Magic Unarmed Combat
Dea Enchantment / Defensive Weapons Healing Military Strategy
Magh Free-day
Chapter 26-Adam ¡°Well, this is shit. I want all of the magical lessons. The only non-magic class I¡¯m interested in is Dueling weapons, but there¡¯s no way I¡¯m going to choose that over Battlefield magic.¡± ¡°Then don¡¯t,¡± Yoru said. ¡°But if that¡¯s your favorite Martial class, I hope you understand that something has to give. I think it best if you choose the magical skills you can¡¯t do without first.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Ressa said. ¡°And you just gave the best reason for going with Dueling rather than Battlefield magic.¡± That was news to me. ¡°I did?¡± ¡°You strike me as a frontline soldier. By your own admission, you are a hand-to-hand fighter, so you should pick the skills that will help you survive up-close engagements. Battle Mages are never close to the action. They remain at the back of the army or units and work together to drop big skills. Honestly, it¡¯s kind of a defunct skill as far as a Warrior Mage is concerned.¡± ¡°You do it, Ress,¡± Torma pointed out. ¡°And that¡¯s how I know it¡¯s a waste of time. Especially for Adam. For me¡­ less so. Because I don¡¯t intend to be on the front lines of any battle, I am here for a fluke of birth that gifted me a naturally high base Toughness stat. Once I leave here, the closest I intend to get to a battle will be in conversations, nestled in the wine cellars of Veloria.¡± ¡°Is that where you¡¯re from?¡± I asked more eagerly than I would have liked to have sounded. ¡°No, I was born and raised on Qunanth.¡± ¡°Ah, okay. So what¡¯s special about Veloria?¡± She frowned as if I was trying to wind her up. ¡°I cannot tell if you are serious?¡± ¡°Deadly. I have no idea about any of the planets in the Union.¡± ¡°But surely you can work out that Veloria is the home world of the Velorians. Our original world.¡± The light of understanding struck. ¡°Ah! You¡¯re a Velorian.¡± She seemed offended. ¡°Of course I am. What did you think I was?¡± It was my turn to laugh. Even though it was at my own ignorance. ¡°I had no idea what you were. I don¡¯t know any of your races apart from Grunir.¡± I pointed at Torma as a practical demonstration of my knowledge. ¡°I also know what an Archon is, and an Unalaran.¡± ¡°Then allow me to introduce my race to you,¡± Yoru said formally. ¡°I am of the Thuris. And we come from Thursar. And no, we do not own other planets. We were a young race when the Archons found and enslaved us.¡± ¡°It was the Velorians who enslaved my people,¡± Ellaazi said bitterly and scowled at Ressa. ¡°Holy shit, this sounds like a quagmire of epic proportions. What race are you Ellaazi?¡± ¡°Nyvren.¡± ¡°As fascinating as this is,¡± Ressa said, ¡°and I¡¯m glad you are getting a little history lesson, and we should totally pick this up again sometime, if we¡¯re going to get Adam¡¯s timetable to reception before it closes, shouldn¡¯t we focus?¡± ¡°We should,¡± I agreed. You were saying what magical skills I wanted most.¡± I looked back at the time table. ¡°Top four. That¡¯s all we need.¡± ¡°So, say I was going to create portals in the future. What would be the best ones to take?¡± Ressa huffed as if to say, This again? Torma didn¡¯t flinch and pointed at Enchantment. ¡°Unless you buy an enchantment which will be crazy money, you¡¯ll want to learn how to make them. They don¡¯t last forever, so being able to refresh them or re-engrave when they get worn is priceless. So I say you absolutely have to choose Enchantment.¡± ¡°Cool. Done.¡± ¡°You would need Evocation too,¡± Yoru offered, and Ressa slapped her head. ¡°You¡¯re all insane. Adam. You are never creating a portal. Not in a hundred years at least.¡± ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m still doing Evocation.¡± ¡°If you insist on being a stone deaf bat, then Aetheric magic would be just as useful, if not more so than Evocation.¡± ¡°But infinitely harder to use. Especially if you¡¯re not attuned to it,¡± Yoru warned. ¡°Sounds like double the power to me. Aetheric magic it is.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good choice for toe-to-toe fighting,¡± Ressa said, finally relaxing. ¡°You should add defensive magic too. It might not help with a portal, but it will help with your survivability.¡± ¡°Agreed,¡± Torma said. ¡°And with those four, you wouldn¡¯t need Battle Magic anyway.¡± ¡°I¡¯m happy with that. And I might as well add Divination. Seems like it¡¯ll be more useful than Heavy weapons.¡± ¡°No Divination,¡± Ressa said. ¡°Firstly, it¡¯s a waste of time. I can attest to that because I took it.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± Ellaazi said. ¡°And it¡¯s terrible. You also already picked four magics, dumb-dumb.¡± ¡°Thanks, Ellaazi. Good to see you opening up a bit.¡± Ellaazi didn¡¯t get the sarcasm, and just grunted at me. The other three all smirked at the interaction. I looked at the table again. ¡°So that leaves me with Siege Craft, Heavy Weapons, and Dueling Weapons. Let¡¯s see how it goes.¡± Yoru offered me a piece of paper to write everything down, and though I doubted I¡¯d forget, I did it anyway. Ressa was standing over me as I did it, then put another piece of paper down. ¡°Write it down again neatly, and I¡¯ll take you along to reception. There should still be someone there.¡± Yoru looked at the clock on the wall, then back to us. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be quick, It¡¯s almost 9.¡± ¡°We have almost an hour!¡± Ressa said confidently. I raised an eyebrow, and she answered the unspoken question. ¡°There is curfew, and they¡¯re pretty hot on it. At least for those of us who aren¡¯t Archons. Come on, we better get moving.¡± The two of us walked silently and swiftly to the reception. I felt a little awkward in her company. I didn¡¯t normally have any issues chatting with women, even beautiful ones. But the whole scenario had me at a loss for words. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I side-eyed her, taking in her otherworldly beauty. At first, I¡¯d hardly noticed, but as the day wore on, and I¡¯d been on the end of both her kindness and her sharp wit, I found myself watching her more and more. And now as we walked through the corridor, that beauty and her predatory grace were amplified by the moonlight shining through the windows. I chuckled internally. It wasn¡¯t as if I was going to make a move on Duchess Ressa Nessoran. I didn¡¯t even know why my mind went there! I was a kidnapped slave, determined to get home. Yet I was also a young man with eyes and urges who hadn¡¯t enjoyed the touch of a woman for over a year. I ended up scolding myself. Focus, you idiot! At the reception, I wasn¡¯t saved from my wandering thoughts by a self-righteous Archon on a power trip. There was no one there. We waited for a bit, and Ressa rang the bell, but no one came. After complaining about the professionalism for a few minutes, she shrugged. ¡°Just leave it on the desk. We¡¯ve done our part. Hopefully, they¡¯ll get it sorted out early in the morning if there¡¯s no night staff on.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said, laying it on the desk. Ressa was already moving, and I assumed she was eager to make it back before the curfew came into place. So when she took me down a different corridor, I was confused. I was about to ask, when she turned back and flashed a white-toothed smile. ¡°We still have a little time, and there¡¯s a spot I love to sit while it¡¯s quiet. You don¡¯t mind, do you?¡± There was every chance I was about to get mugged or screwed over in some way, so for some reason, I couldn¡¯t quite figure, I smiled back and said, ¡°Lead the way.¡± We walked in silence for a few minutes and took another turn before we came to doors that led us outside of the building. She eased them open, taking care to be quiet, then beckoned me out into the cool night air. Beyond was a beautiful garden. The sound of splashing water reached my ears as she led me off again, along a winding path through the foliage. Still, I was aware of the potential danger, and still I didn¡¯t care. So far, this had been the best day I¡¯d had in a long time, and I included back on Earth. The moment I thought about that, I clamped up. Dare I even give life to the thought that this was quite possibly the best day in my life? It was a sad and sobering thought. ¡°I¡¯d love to know what you¡¯re thinking about, Adam.¡± I looked across to her and realized she was watching me closely. ¡°Ah, nothing much. Just about this place and home.¡± ¡°You miss home a lot?¡± I had to think about that for a moment. Did I miss home, or did I just want to get back because I¡¯d been kidnapped from there and it was where I lived. It seemed I had a lot to unpack. ¡°I do,¡± I finally lied. ¡°My parents are there. They¡¯re good people, and they¡¯re getting old. They¡¯ll be devastated when they hear I¡¯m dead. What about you?¡± ¡°I hate my parents. And I hate my home. The only problem is, I hate this place as well.¡± I was surprised to hear all of that. She seemed so together. ¡°You have good friends here. You¡¯re smart and capable. I see you hate the Archons, but it doesn¡¯t really seem to really affect you.¡± ¡°Well it does,¡± she snapped in an uncharacteristic show of anger. ¡°And friends? Really? You mean other outcasts who have had to band together for some semblance of a life worth living.¡± ¡°I dunno, I liked Torma and Yoru from what I¡¯ve seen.¡± She giggled at that. ¡°You might not believe this, but Ellaazi is okay too. She just takes a little time to warm up to people, and then you stole her bread, so it might take a little longer for you.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ We¡¯ll see.¡± We turned a corner and moved from narrow tree-lined path to open garden. I finally saw the fountain. ¡°My god, it is beautiful,¡± I said, marveling at the gentle lights that illuminated the bushes and shrubs, and fireflies buzzed around, creating patterns in the air. ¡°It is. I like to come here when it¡¯s dark and have a little peace. I might not like the Archons, but they sure know how to create a beautiful garden.¡± She moved off the path to a bench and jumped onto the seat part before sitting on the backrest. I joined her so that I could look at her while we talked. And if we didn¡¯t talk? Then I could admire her along with the rest of the surroundings. Dark, mysterious, and beautiful. A long but comfortable silence stretched out. For my part, I suspected she sat here alone a lot, and I didn¡¯t want to spoil her peace. ¡°You don¡¯t talk much,¡± she said after at least ten minutes. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I replied. ¡°I can talk plenty when the time¡¯s right, but I was happy to sit in silence and take it all in. I guessed that¡¯s what you would want as well.¡± She smiled. ¡°I can see why your Harmony¡¯s so high. You have strong empathy.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s a precursor to Harmony?¡± She shrugged. ¡°It can be. The Velorians have, on average, the highest Harmony of all races. And I can promise you that that doesn¡¯t come from empathy. The Archons and the Xeo are probably next closest, and again¡­ neither race is famous for their empathy. If they have it, they¡¯re all very good at suppressing it for power.¡± ¡°Sounds typical,¡± I mused. ¡°So where else does it come from?¡± I noticed a soft, sad smile briefly flit across her face. ¡°For the Velorians, a strong interest in the spiritual world. Not gods, but a belief in the intricate tapestry of the universe. For the Archons, they have a very strong religion, and by religion, I mean that they believe themselves to be gods.¡± ¡°So what, they pray to themselves?¡± She shook her head emphatically. ¡°No. They generally pray to the great Archons of the past, or the Prime Sovereign. It¡¯s a very selfish kind of spirituality. Insular to the Velorians¡¯ external.¡± I was tempted to ask about the Xeo, but found that could wait for another day. The conversation had taken a slight serious turn that I wasn¡¯t interested taking any further if I could help it. ¡°And the Velorians, Archons, and Xeo are all a part of this Union, yes?¡± She laughed. It was mocking but not harsh. ¡°I wish I could be so ignorant. It is a bliss you do not appreciate.¡± ¡°Probably. But then every life has a story no one else can ever understand. This is just on a slightly larger scale.¡± ¡°True enough. And to answer your question, you need a brief history of the Union. The Velorians and Archons were once two separate empires. Each learning the secrets of portals and using them to expand their reach across countless worlds. Until they came against each other. Many wars followed. The balance ebbed and flowed between them for millennia. ¡°Then the Xeo appeared one day, and everything changed. Their religion is war, and they have an unusual balance with the powers in the universe. They can absorb the life force of others and increase their own power. In the end, the Velorians and the Archons had to join forces to prevent the Xeo from destroying the universe as we know it. ¡°Even then, the battles were hard fought, and the Xeo gained as much ground as they lost, until our two races really joined together and created the Union. A central government and central military command that finally made use of the skills of both races. The Archons by nature believe in the might of arm. Brave and bold, with shiny armor and rattling sabers. The Velorians are subterfuge and stealth. A knife in the back, or at the throat in the dead of night. Both equally effective, and when used together, the Union pushed back the Xeo.¡± ¡°Okay! Now that was worth a thousand classes!¡± I finally had an understanding of the overall layout of the place, and it answered a lot of questions. ¡°I¡¯m glad to enlighten you from pond scum to a¡­ frog, perhaps?¡± I sighed. ¡°You had to go and ruin it. Just as I was starting to like you.¡± She grinned wide. ¡°Oh, however shall I sleep tonight, knowing that I have scuppered such a fine friendship.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine. We can always just ignore each other. Sounds like the Archons and Velorians should do that too. Why do they not split again?¡± She pursed her lips together in thought. ¡°Because we are too entwined. The worlds and races from both our empires now follow Union rule, and they¡¯re happier like that.¡± ¡°Go figure,¡± I chuckled. ¡°Still. It doesn¡¯t sound like a healthy relationship.¡± ¡°It is definitely not a healthy relationship. The Union itself is not healthy, but the Xeo are building again. I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll start another war. I think it¡¯s just fear-mongering. But the upper echelons appear to be taking it seriously.¡± She fell silent again, and it didn¡¯t look like there was more coming. I nodded, respectful of her choice. ¡°Well, thank you very much for the information. It¡¯s nice to have some kind of background.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome. It¡¯s not really why I brought you here.¡± ¡°There was a reason? I feel thoroughly duped. I thought it was my winning personality.¡± ¡°No,¡± she said quietly. Then in a whisper, spoken without looking at me, ¡°I know someone who can get you a portal to Unalar if you want one.¡± My eyes went wide. I pulled back. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Come on. I¡¯m not a fool. Kidnapped from your planet, and you manage to end up here where you keep your mouth shut and watch and learn. The only thing you wanted to know about the classes was how to make a portal. Doesn¡¯t take an Osrian Mind Mage to work it out. You want to try and get back home.¡± ¡°Of course I do. But why would you want to help me? We don¡¯t even know each other.¡± Another shrug. ¡°I just like sticking it to the Archons anyway I can.¡± My mind was reeling. All thoughts of gardens, fountains, and fireflies had fled as I tried not to get too hopeful. Tried not to be drawn into some game I didn¡¯t know the rules to. ¡°Okay. But why would someone who can make portals want to help me? What¡¯s in it for them? I¡¯m assuming they¡¯re a powerful mage.¡± ¡°They are. And they wouldn¡¯t be doing it for you, they would be doing it for me. It is my eldest brother.¡± ¡°And the only reason you want to do it is to upset an Archon or two? Forgive me for being suspicious, but I¡¯m doing the math and this doesn¡¯t add up.¡± I stood from the bench, a sense of dread and mistrust settling in my bones. ¡°What¡¯s the game?¡± ¡°No game,¡± she said, remaining in her spot and looking very relaxed. ¡°I just intend to come with you.¡± Chapter 27 Earl The Able pretty much screeched at the Monarch as we entered her throne room. ¡°His Harmony is Zero!¡± She cast him a dangerous glare. ¡°That can¡¯t be. He would be dead?¡± ¡°One would assume. Yet he assures me both his Harmony and his Mage Class Progression are struck though! I think¡­¡± He rubbed his pointy chin for a moment as he considered his next words. ¡°I think this is why he can use weapons that he shouldn¡¯t have access too. And why it took so much power to heal him. Five attempts, six if you include the attempt in the arena. Wounds that should have been healed from my first casting. At first, I thought it was his low level, but¡­ deep down, I knew it couldn¡¯t be.¡± I snorted. Lying fucker. The slick-back bastard had already sold me down the river. The Monarch stood and approached me, gliding across the polished floor like a ghost. She was shorter than me, even if her stupid crown made her look taller, and she took great pleasure in looking me over like I was a tasty steak. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Able. I have never heard of this happening before.¡± I flashed the Identify skill to check her over while she talked. Name: Nisa Olin Parela Title: Monarch of the Velkyn Arena Level: 42 Class: Mage/Tradesman As she studied me, I found myself wondering what she did for the Tradesman class. Then I received a kind of mental nudge so that she could inspect my stats. I allowed her access and winked at her when she still gasped at the magnificence of Earl. ¡°It makes no sense,¡± she muttered. ¡°His base level for Toughness is on a level¡­ higher even than an Ogrid. Have we ever had an Earther show such stats before?¡± ¡°We have not. But then I cannot remember the last Earther we had, and it¡¯s unlikely, judging by the others we have seen, that we would ever ascend them.¡± ¡°Perhaps that is a mistake.¡± She looked at me like some kind of circus attraction. ¡°To my eyes, you truly are unique, Earther.¡± ¡°Or broken,¡± the Able offered. ¡°Either way,¡± she said, pacing around me as she thought. ¡°If he reaches a suitable level, he could be very valuable to us. Level 9 sounds terrible, but a base level of 16 in Toughness and 13 in Acuity, well, that changes everything.¡± ¡°Indeed, Monarch. Broken or not, we no doubt have something¡­¡± He looked back at me apologetically. ¡°Special on our hands.¡± Aye. It wasn¡¯t that an hour ago when you were ready to drop me like a sack of hammers. I kept my mouth shut, though. These people were useful for now. I¡¯d milk them for everything they were worth, but I¡¯d remember all of this bullshit. ¡°Take care of him, Able. And further test your hypothesis on Magic resistance. He did take my earlier attack remarkably well, but whether that is because of his naturally high Toughness or the lack of Harmony is the question we need an answer too.¡± ¡°It could be both,¡± the Able replied. ¡°It could,¡± she snapped back unexpectedly. ¡°Which is why I¡¯m asking you to test!¡± The Able got the hint, and he quickly ushered me from the hall under the Monarch¡¯s irritated glare. It seemed he¡¯d forgotten all about the scolding no sooner as the doors closed behind us. And he started with me, full of assurances that I had a big part to play in the upcoming tournament. ¡°With a base Toughness of 16 You could be so formidable. That combined with a Mental Acuity of 13¡­ These are big base numbers, Earl, and they will ensure you are underestimated by everyone. They also make sense of your prowess in the arena too. It all makes sense now!¡± ¡°I fucking bet it does,¡± I said, barely keeping the annoyance from my voice. ¡°What makes me wonder is the magic and its effects on you. We have always considered Harmony to be the single driver behind magic use, yet¡­ you are still affected by it, even if not by much.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Thing is,¡± I said, resting a hand on the Able¡¯s shoulder like he was an old friend. ¡°I needed healing today. But say if I got Level 100 in Toughness, would I still need healing?¡± The Able laughed. ¡°You most certainly would. Mages can cause damage that circumvents Toughness.¡± It was my turn to laugh. But I didn¡¯t. ¡°And which of my stats does that attack then? Mental Acuity?¡± He was stumped. ¡°No¡­ no, it wouldn¡¯t. It would affect Harmony.¡± ¡°Well there you fucking go, then.¡± I thumped his back in a friendly gesture. ¡°Help me ramp up my Toughness and I¡¯m good to go.¡± ¡°That does seem like a reasonable premise to work upon. I will see what I can do to help before the tournament.¡± He paused, and then cleared his throat. ¡°We do need to discuss your ongoing use of the Akra again, Earl. It would really help your popularity if you stopped doing that every time you fight. And, if possible, explain to the crowd that it means something different to an Earther.¡± I side-eyed him and nodded. It didn¡¯t mean that I was going to stop, just that I¡¯d heard his concerns. I wasn¡¯t responsible for what he thought that nod meant. ¡°So what happens next? When do I fight again?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure. You have a break which I would strongly advise you to use for training as much as is possible.¡± ¡°Sounds good. I like training, and drinking. Can I get alcohol here?¡± ¡°Of course you can. Just request it from your servers with your meals. Ah! Here we are.¡± He gestured past me to the same room I¡¯d woken up in after the ascension. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta say, this cell is a lot nicer than the last one.¡± His face wrinkled up into a mix of humor and puzzlement. ¡°It¡¯s not a cell. It¡¯s your room. You can go anywhere in the arena grounds. Guards will be at the places you don¡¯t have free access to. This is your home now, Earl, for the foreseeable future.¡± ¡°Really? So I can just wander around?¡± ¡°Within the arena grounds, yes. It is an enormous place. We even have our own open marketplace within the walls. You can find refreshments and a good number of shops. I should warn you, though. This is a place where other fighters gather, among a wide range of other people. It has the potential to be volatile, so we have a simple rule: no unauthorized fighting is allowed anywhere inside of the arena walls. Doing so is punishable by death.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem for me.¡± ¡°Why not? You gave the impression that you enjoy fighting for fighting¡¯s sake.¡± I patted my raggy, tattered pockets. ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t need no market because I haven¡¯t got my wallet.¡± The Able looked utterly bewildered. ¡°Wallet?¡± ¡°Yeah. What I keep my money in,¡± I explained. ¡°Ah! Very funny, Earl. Your Earth currency wouldn¡¯t make any difference here. You will have to acquire your own money.¡± ¡°And how exactly do I do that when I¡¯m a prisoner?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t a prisoner.¡± ¡°It feels like I¡¯m a prisoner.¡± ¡°Your classification would fall under indentured servant till such time as you earn your freedom by the initial investment plus upkeep from the Velkyn Arena being repaid.¡± ¡°So I need to earn money to buy my freedom?¡± ¡°While you will receive a stipend from the arena, plus win bonuses from your fights, they are rarely generous enough to repay what is owed. I was referring more to the involvement of third parties looking to acquire a skilled warrior.¡± ¡°What the hell are you babbling on about, Able? That¡¯s a lot of pretty words to say I¡¯m your slave until someone else buys me and I become theirs.¡± ¡°No. I am saying you are employed by the Velkyn Arena, and you will remain employed by us until you can pay your exit fee, or someone else can. I can see you don¡¯t like my words, but with your abilities, this is a great honor. There is much poverty throughout the Union, and the vast majority would kill to be a champion in the arenas.¡± ¡°Yeah, but the vast majority would die because they¡¯re shit, aren¡¯t they? I¡¯m going to be champion because I know what I¡¯m doing.¡± ¡°Exactly!¡± the Able clapped. ¡°You will be a hero to the masses!¡± ¡°Fuck the masses. What¡¯s the situation with money? How do I make more of it?¡± ¡°You will receive six unitols each cycle. You get fifty for a win, and ten when you lose. You can also acquire a sponsor at some point, though it may be a little early right now. They will help with your training and your equipment, and they will likely give you a little extra money per fight too.¡± ¡°Why would someone want to sponsor me if I belong to you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s normally a prelude to purchase. A show of faith if there is competition for your signature.¡± ¡°So do I have money now? I did win a fight, right? So I should have sixty-six Unitols if I don¡¯t miss my guess.¡± ¡°Your fight against the pool warrior doesn¡¯t exactly count as you weren¡¯t registered or ascended at the time. But I will speak with the Monarch, I¡¯m sure something can be arranged. You need not purchase food as all meals will be supplied.¡± ¡°As part of my overall bill, right?¡± He smiled. ¡°We are running a business after all.¡± ¡°Do I have to pay the stipend back as well?¡± ¡°The six Unitol a week, yes. The fight bonus, no.¡± I shook my head in disappointment. ¡°Greedy bastards. This is a right scam.¡± ¡°It is lucrative if you have the right setting.¡± He gestured around at the arena around us. ¡°So go, Earl. Enjoy your money.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll save it. Not a good idea for me to head out there.¡± He looked troubled .¡±Please explain?¡± ¡°Because you said no fighting.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you walk around a small market without causing a fight?¡± ¡°I¡¯d struggle at the best of times. But out there, I imagine most of them hate me for doing that fucking salute thingy?¡± ¡°Ah, that is actually a very good point. You have offended a great many people with your antics.¡± ¡°There you go, then. I¡¯ll stay in my room away from the livestock.¡± ¡°I can send a guard to chaperone you.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯d probably just end up fighting them.¡± ¡°Yet you really should make the most of the opportunity. I am thinking you would benefit greatly from more suitable attire for the arena. Your rags are¡­ not very protective, and while anything above basic armor is out for the first two rounds, you could do with a little something extra.¡± ¡°Basic armor?¡± ¡°No level requirement. Most just wear boiled leather for the first two rounds as it¡¯s light and flexible, and death is frowned upon.¡± ¡°Hmmm, that¡¯s not an awful idea. I could definitely do with a decent pair of gloves. This is probably going to end horribly, but fuck it, I¡¯m going to go out. Give me a chaperone and tell them to do all the talking. Oh, and where do I pick this stipend up?¡± ¡°I will have the guard bring your current wealth. Now try to relax. Center yourself so that you are calm for your shopping trip.¡± Chapter 28 – Earl A knock came at the door not long after the Able left. A tall arena guard stood looking down his big, gray nose-beak thing at me. Even from this angle, I could tell he wasn¡¯t happy. ¡°Fighter Earl, I¡¯ve been asked to escort you... to... the Merchant Quarter.¡± ¡°Come on then,¡± I said, gesturing to the door he was now blocking. ¡°I want to look at gloves first. And I could do with a sleeveless t-shirt or a vest to fight in. Boiled leather if they¡¯ve got it.¡± He grimaced when I spoke, but said nothing. I wagged a finger at him. ¡°You can knock the passive aggressive shit off as well. If you wanna fight me, say the word, chief. Otherwise, just do your fucking job and escort me where I need to go.¡± ¡°Just who do you think you¡¯re speaking to, Earther?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know, do I? You didn¡¯t give me a name.¡± ¡°You can check my Identifier like everyone else.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No. I don¡¯t think I will. That would require effort from me that you haven¡¯t earned yet with your stinking attitude and your stuck up face.¡± ¡°That feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, I am the only one available. So, as offensive as this duty is to me, I will carry it out with as much decorum as is possible. Do you understand?¡± ¡°Oh, I understand. And I don¡¯t really care if it offends you. What I do care about is you twisting your face every time I speak. It¡¯s called passive aggression or something, and it¡¯s not healthy for you.¡± The big, chunky bastard just couldn¡¯t help himself and scowled silently at me again. The he turned on his big, booted heel and marched out of the doorway. He went at a fair old pace, and while I could have kept up with him, it would have required me practically jogging. Last I checked, it was him escorting me not the other way around, so I set my own more sedate pace and took in the sights as we went. He must have sensed the growing distance between us and slowed down ever so slightly. By the time we¡¯d navigated a few dozen twists and turns in the stone corridors and came to a pair of well used double doors, I¡¯d almost caught up. I could hear the bustle of a busy place before he cast the doors wide and let hot sunlight stream in. I was used to being outside at home, so it came as a welcome relief to have sunlight on my skin again. Cloth-roofed stalls stretched out ahead of us, and the solid din of indecipherable chatter created an invisible wall of unpleasantness. The bustling market place was a little busy for my tastes, and while people weren¡¯t exactly shoulder to shoulder, it put me on edge. ¡°Any ideas where to start then?¡± I asked the mountain of misery beside me. It seemed to take a huge effort for him to reply, but with a stifled sigh, he pointed off to our left. ¡°I know a couple of stalls where we might find what you seek.¡± Not waiting for a reply, he marched off once again, measuring his pace this time so that I could keep up easily. Glances and glares were at a premium as we passed, and at least half of them had the look of fighters from the scars and the way they moved. I glared back for the most part, but there were so many that I could hardly keep track. And when the scent of fresh, warm food hit my nose, I forgot all about them. I sniffed the air and looked around until my eyes landed on the motherload. A stall selling pastries. A mountain of pastry. My mouth began to water uncontrollably as I set off for the seller. I may or may not have remembered to warn my chaperone of my detour. The seller was a grubby looking, gray fella about three feet tall, though he had a platform behind the counter so that he could deal with normal folk. ¡°Heya, short stuff. What¡¯s this one?¡± I pointed at a pie. He glowered at me, and most notably my clothes. ¡°Too much for you. Go away. You scare my customers with your stench.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. I was torn between ripping his head off, and never shopping here again. I settled for ramming my finger in the pie in question and then tasting the gravy on my finger. His gray face darkened just as a shadow fell over us. The happy hippo had noticed I¡¯d peeled off. ¡°What are you doing, Earther?¡± ¡°Pies,¡± I said, gesturing in front of me. ¡°I¡¯m trying to work out what that one is.¡± I pointed to the one with the hole in it. The seller had gone quiet now that the soldier was here. ¡°But it smells damn good and the gravy is decent, but I don¡¯t want to end up with fish eye pie or something.¡± He seemed to shudder before answering. ¡°It is meat. Most likely from a grazing beast.¡± ¡°Sounds good.¡± I looked back at the seller. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°Two,¡± he said simply, though he seemed to be shaking with anger. ¡°Two fucking Unitols? That¡¯s daylight robbery.¡± My shadow nodded. ¡°Correct. These pies normally go for one and three,¡± The seller swallowed guiltily. ¡°Times are hard¡­ but one and three it is.¡± I stuck my hand out to the soldier. ¡°Money, if you please.¡± I didn¡¯t look back, but a clinking pouch landed. I looked inside to see a handful of silver and bronze coins. I had no idea what value each held, and after a closer inspection, I still had no clue. I glanced back to the guard. ¡°What¡¯s one and three out of this?¡± He didn¡¯t even bother to look. ¡°Why am I not surprised that you cannot count?¡± ¡°Why am I not surprised that you¡¯re an utter cunt,¡± I countered. He looked ready to swing for me, which meant the insult translated well. But it wasn¡¯t worth getting into when I had a pie to buy. Turning back to the stall owner, I took out one of the bronze coins and handed it over. His hand remained where it was, waiting for more, so I placed another one on. We stared at each other for a long time before he deposited them into his pouch and riffled around in there until he pulled out seven smaller copper bits. With great reluctance, he dropped them in my outstretched palm. ¡°Is it to eat now or do you require a bag to take it away?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take a bag, thanks.¡± He went to pick up the pie with a hole in it, and I stopped him. ¡°Woah, what the hell are you doing? Some dirty bastard¡¯s clearly poked his finger in that one. Trying to sell me damaged goods?¡± The seller stood slack-jawed, hand hovering over the pie. I held his stare. ¡°It¡¯s a goddamn scandal is what that is. Wait till I tell everyone about your dodgy donut pies. Imagine if I win this entire tournament, and in my final bout as I lift the trophy, I tell everyone in the arena not to ever shop at¡­¡± I looked up to read his sign. ¡°Geldark¡¯s Pastries.¡± His expression went cold, his hand slowly moved to the next unblemished pie which he picked up and slid in the bag. He handed it over, never taking his eyes off me. ¡°Please, never come back here.¡± I pulled the pie from the paper bag which floated down to the ground and I took a massive bite. Holding his eye, I chewed on the beef-like meat inside. ¡°Mm, mm. Now that is a tasty fucking pie. You know what? I think I will come back here, Geldark.¡± Then I set off chomping happily on my first purchase on another world. It tasted just like a steak and ale pie from home, though it had a little extra spice that definitely didn¡¯t come from black pepper. I found the meat had the slightest of gamey tastes to it as well, but none of that detracted from my enjoyment. Nor did the disgusted looks from those passing by as gravy dribbled down my chin and dripped on to my ragged t-shirt. I ignored them for the most part until the last morsel disappeared into my mouth, and I noticed that one particularly sexy looking passerby had actually stopped to glare at me. Tall, athletic and with long curly blonde hair cascading around shoulders. She was bordering on too muscular, but I didn¡¯t mind that much. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± I asked around chews of the succulent meat and crumbly pastry. ¡°Never seen someone eating a fucking pie before?¡± ¡°It is you,¡± she growled, pacing over. She had to bend down so that she was eye to eye with me. ¡°I¡¯m definitely me,¡± I said, swallowing some renegade strands of meat. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m the me you think I am.¡± She grimaced and stood up straight, towering over me once again. ¡°I hoped we would meet. I didn¡¯t dream it would be so soon.¡± Her eyes flickered to the guard behind me, and she offered a subtle nod of respect. ¡°Do I know you, petal? Did I forgot to call you back after a night of wild passion or something?¡± She spat on the cobbled stones at my feet. ¡°How did a heathen such as you defeat my sister in combat?¡± The lightbulb switched on, and I snapped my fingers and pointed in her face. ¡°I thought you looked familiar. Was that your sister whose skull I bashed to mince?¡± Pure outrage clouded her features. ¡°You will pay dearly for her death.¡± ¡°Wha? Why?¡± I was genuinely confused. ¡°We were both consenting adults. What did you expect me to do? Tickle her into submission?¡± ¡°Fight with honor and decency!¡± Her voice took on a frantic tone. ¡°You could easily have let her live!¡± ¡°Look, petal, just simmer down for a minute.¡± ¡°Simmer down! I will kill you! I do not know what foul tricks you used to lay her low, but they will not work against me. I have you marked, Earther, and I will get my revenge.¡± I wiped my chin as she spoke, loosened up my neck and shoulders and raised my guard. ¡°Why wait? After that delicious pie, I¡¯m ready to go.¡± The surprise on her face at my eagerness to fight was superseded by the guard¡¯s voice behind me. ¡°Fighting is forbidden here, Earl. All dueling is met with death.¡± I looked back to him. ¡°Christ, you¡¯re a buzz kill,¡± His sour expression twitched into the briefest of smiles. ¡°That threat alone has been enough to keep peace in the communal areas of the Velkyn Arena for over thirty Union years.¡± The woman had taken a step back. ¡°And I would never have sullied this respected arena with bloodshed, Captain.¡± Then she refocused on me. ¡°But if you survive this tournament, I will have my vengeance.¡± I gave her a thumbs up. ¡°Can¡¯t wait, sweetheart.¡± Chapter 29 - Earl ¡°I¡¯ll say one thing for you, Earther. You excel at making enemies.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a talented guy,¡± I replied, feeling a little deflated after the promise of action, only to have it slip away. ¡°You realize if I allowed that fight to happen I would have also had to kill you?¡± ¡°Nah, it would have been fine.¡± ¡°No. I would have had to kill you. It is the law here.¡± ¡°Sure, but how was that woman¡¯s sister in the pool fighters? I thought it was just bought slaves that proved themselves.¡± ¡°That was Varela Domina, and she is a well-respected fighter from a fearsome Verlaz family line. They have fought in the arenas across the universe for as long as arenas have existed. But, word has it, the family has fallen on hard times, and the only way to pay for her younger sister¡¯s ascension and the tournament entrance fee was for her to enter the pool fighters. She would lose half of her winnings but would be released at the end of her service. It is not an uncommon practice.¡± ¡°Ah! Then why the hell did they put her with me?¡± ¡°I imagine it was the 500 Unitol prize money.¡± ¡°She was a decent fighter.¡± ¡°She was. But very low leveled. Still, based on your ascended levels you should not have been able to defeat her. I wonder why our Monarch has decided to put effort into your development. A Level 9 who is more rabid dog than anything else.¡± ¡°Ooh, you have dogs!¡± His face twisted once again, but he said nothing so I filled in the silence. ¡°You know the saying, it¡¯s not the size of the dog in the fight, it¡¯s the size of the fight in the dog?¡± He side eyed me curiously. ¡°Well Talla Mount fuckin Domina just didn¡¯t have enough fight in her.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t watch, but I heard you weren¡¯t impressive. I heard that you used a dirty trick to win.¡± ¡°Dirty trick? Is that what people are saying? She was the bigger fighter, with a bigger weapon and she was ascended. I used my movement to evade, baited the big pig and waited for my moment. If you call that a dirty trick, then you fuckers don¡¯t know fighting half as well as you think you do.¡± ¡°I will be in attendance at your next fight. I will reserve judgment of your supposed skills until then.¡± ¡°Good for you,¡± I replied, irritated at the insinuation that I needed to cheat. I mean, I wasn¡¯t above cheating, at all. But on this occasion, I hadn¡¯t needed to, so the accusation stung. We continued in silence, and I took in the sights and sounds until he brought me to a stop at another stall. I scanned the gear he had available, but a quick glance told me there were no vests or sleeveless t-shirts, and definitely no fingerless gloves. ¡°Are you deaf or something? There¡¯s literally nothing here I said I wanted.¡± ¡°Yet this is what we have available for you to peruse.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s the gloves at? Where¡¯s the vests I asked to see?¡± Stern faced, he glared back at me. ¡°Look or we can return.¡± I threw my hands up and gestured all around. ¡°You¡¯re telling me, in this entire market place, this is all the clothes there is?¡± With the most disinterested look he could muster, he turned to stare down the street as if something had caught his attention. I turned back to the stall owner. ¡°Right, mate, is this everything you¡¯ve got?¡± ¡°It is, sir. Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And are you the only clothes shop in this whole place?¡± ¡°I am not, sir. No, sir.¡± ¡°Good to hear. Now, all your clothes look very fine and nice and everything, but I¡¯m looking for something a little bit more durable and rugged. Yeah? So do you know anywhere I can get that kind of clothing?¡± His eyes flickered over to the guard, and I spun to check on him. He was staring back at the seller impassively, even so, I felt like something had passed between them. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, sir. There may be other shops, but I wouldn¡¯t like to say.¡± ¡°What an absolute pile of shit.¡± I turned back to the guard and prodded him in the bulky chest plate. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re up to, but if you¡¯re going to fuck me about and not actually show me what I need, then I¡¯ll look myself.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t look yourself. You are to be escorted. Those are my orders.¡± I thought for a moment. That hadn¡¯t been the agreement with the Able, but I nodded. ¡°Escort away.¡± Then I stormed off down the street, trying to put a bit of distance between us before I could bust the idiot¡¯s head open. Despite my effort, the big bastard was fast and kept up easily, while I was already blowing out my arse in the heat. I stopped at a stall full of tools. Hammers, picks, chisels and the like sat on his wide table. I slammed my hands down on it to get his attention. He was a very short, very wide man with a bald head, and a red-braided beard hanging from his chin to his waist. ¡°I need proper durable clothes, and you look like a man who knows where to buy them from.¡± Like the last seller, his eyes flicked up to the approaching guard, and I slammed my fist down this time. ¡°Don¡¯t be looking at that bastard. I don¡¯t know what facial expressions he¡¯s pulling and telling you to do, but he¡¯s got nothing to do with this. He¡¯s just supposed to be making sure I don¡¯t get into any fucking fights, and he¡¯s trying to stop me buying the clothes that I need because he doesn¡¯t like me. And that¡¯s all right because I don¡¯t like him, but he¡¯s trying to screw me over for my next fight.¡± ¡°And is there any reason I shouldn¡¯t try to screw you over for your next fight, too, Earther? ¡°No. No reason at all. We don¡¯t even know each other.¡± ¡°And what about your display of the Akra in each of your previous fights? ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean the same thing in my world as it does on your world.¡± The stall keeper was intrigued now. ¡°And what does it mean on your world, Earther?¡± ¡°On my world, it means sod off, you bunch of arseholes.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s still not a positive?¡± ¡°Definitely not. When I won my first fight, they booed me. Why would I be positive towards them?¡± ¡°Because they will play a big part in your progression.¡± ¡°Nah, these beauties are the only part in my progression,¡± I said, waving my fists. ¡°And this,¡± I added, pointing at my head. ¡°You don¡¯t know the arena very well if you believe that. The crowds are a huge part of any fighter¡¯s ascendancy under the lights.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Fair enough then, I might stop if it means that much to you all. Now can you help me with the durable clothes?¡± He glanced at the guard and back to me. ¡°You¡¯re right in your assumption. The Captain is warning me with his eyes not to answer your question. Luckily for you, I have no love of the Arena Guard. If you continue along this route all the way to the back wall, you will reach the old town shops. Head right and it¡¯s around ten shops on your left. You¡¯re looking for Dwim¡¯s Adornments. Dwim is my brother, and he¡¯ll have what you need.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked. ¡°Dorsh.¡± ¡°Well, Dorsh, you¡¯re a good dude. Thanks for the help.¡± And with that, I was off again, marching down the road toward the wall, pondering the big questions in life, such as should I stop using the middle finger salute to the crowd? Would it make my life easier? Or was I right and all I had to worry about were my fists and my mind? By the time I reached Dwim¡¯s Adornments, I still hadn¡¯t made a decision. But I was impressed with the entire street of shops. They weren¡¯t scabby little stalls at all, but a well-constructed terrace that was built into the base of the wall. Inside Dwim¡¯s adornments, there was a definite medieval vibe, and looked very much like a shop run by a Grunir that dealt in hard-wearing work clothes. I heard my shadow enter behind me. Silent, but with annoyance radiating off him. I moved to the gloves first. They were the most important, and Dwim had a fine-looking selection to choose from. I whistled softly as I took them all in. Mostly leather, though there were some mail on show too. ¡°Like what you see?¡± came a gruff voice from across the shop. ¡°I do. I really do. Some very cool stuff here. You must be Dwim?¡± ¡°You must be able to read,¡± he stated dryly. ¡°I can. But just because you¡¯re in the shop doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re the fucking Dwim on the sign now, does it?¡± ¡°Fair point,¡± the Grunir conceded. ¡°Unless you¡¯re ascended, which you are.¡± I nodded. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re all making fair points today. But I don¡¯t check identifiers. The reason I guessed you were Dwim was because you look like your brother, only with a wig on.¡± He grasped at his hair defensively. ¡°You can tell?¡± I burst out in laughter. ¡°Well, now I know, definitely! But I didn¡¯t know it was a wig when I said it.¡± Dwim was furious, which wasn¡¯t the start I wanted. He resettled his wig and then put his hands on his hips. ¡°Why don¡¯t you use your Identify ability?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Just keep forgetting. You can¡¯t undo twenty-seven years of not checking identifiers in a day, you know?¡± ¡°Makes sense. So what do you want? If you want the best clothing, I¡¯ll need your stats so that I can direct you.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t care about anything other than hardest wearing pair of gloves you¡¯ve got that still give me a bit of dexterity. Oh, and the toughest sleeveless top. Oh, and of course, I¡¯d have to be able to afford it.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°And how much have you got to spend?¡± ¡°Whatever¡¯s left in this pouch. About 65 Unitols.¡± ¡°And your stats? I need to know what we¡¯re working with here.¡± ¡°Toughness is 16 and Mental Acuity is¡­¡± It suddenly struck me that the leveling stats weren¡¯t hard to work out if I told him, and I didn¡¯t want to give away all my secrets to the first wigged Grunir I met. ¡°¡­Acuity is ten. My Harmony is so shit it¡¯s not worth mentioning.¡± ¡°Understandable. There¡¯s plenty poor in Harmony, but it does limit the enchantments worth buying.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need magic at all. Just Toughness.¡± ¡°What did you say you had? Sixty-five?¡± He pursed his lips. ¡°You¡¯ll not do great with that amount.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a bit less.¡± I upended the bag on the glove display. He scanned them quickly. ¡°It¡¯s a bit more,¡± he said tentatively. ¡°You got ninety-eight and seven. We can probably do something half decent with that.¡± ¡°How is that ninety-eight?¡± I asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know our money, eh, Earl?¡± He pointed at the coins. ¡°This is Union standard, so listen well. The little bronze bits are Decels. Ten Decels make a larger bronze, which is a Unitol. Silvers are Decitols which is ten Unitols. Gold are Primarks. They¡¯re worth a hundred Unitols.¡± I was genuinely grateful for the rundown. ¡°Thanks, Dwim. I appreciate that.¡± I turned on the guard. ¡°You fucking knew I had more, didn¡¯t you? What an utter bastard you¡¯re turning out to be. And a Captain as well! Do you not need honor to be a Captain?¡± His jaw was set, clearly pissed off. ¡°Do not speak to me of honor, you wretched creature. I was handed a pouch for you. I did not stop to check the contents like some greedy miser.¡± ¡°Blah, blah. You knew.¡± I slapped my hand on the pile of money and grinned at Dwim. ¡°So, whatcha got for me? I want the best for that amount of money. I¡¯ll get paid again when I win my next fight.¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t need any enchantments, then you won¡¯t need to spend it all.¡± ¡°If having magic attached means the durability of the gear is higher, then I¡¯ll take it anyway.¡± His expression spoke volumes. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to wear them without the right Level and Harmony stat, you daft sod. Are you not listening to the words that are coming out of my mouth?¡± ¡°I heard and I¡¯m listening. It¡¯s you who¡¯s not listening to me, because I already said it doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t care about the stat or overall level.¡± The red faced Grunir threw up his hands. ¡°You want to give your money away. There¡¯s no better place to do it in my opinion.¡± ¡°I do. Now show me the most durable gloves you¡¯ve got for the amount of money I have, and if there¡¯s anything left, show me the most durable vests for the amount remaining.¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to spend all of your money on garments you cannot wear,¡± the guard muttered. I spun and thrust a finger in his face. ¡°Don¡¯t you be fucking talking to me, Hippo breath. Not after leading me a merry dance with silken gowns and fancy fucking jewelry.¡± Turning back to the Grunir, I snapped my fingers. ¡°Come on then. Show me what you got.¡± He sighed, clearly unhappy with the situation. ¡°I¡¯m with the guard on this one. But if you want to throw your money away, I¡¯m happy to catch it. Follow me.¡± He led us through the shop to another selection of gloves. ¡°These go from sixty up to three-hundred.¡± He pointed out a set of beautiful leather gloves. ¡°These are ninety-eight, and they have the best durability and best Toughness modifiers for the range you can afford to play in. They have a level requirement of 16.¡± ¡°Will these give me extra damage?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed extra offensive items beyond what you are given in the armory for the first few rounds,¡± the guard said. The Grunir huffed. ¡°They¡¯re not designed as weapons. Or Armor.¡± He lifted the gloves from the rack. ¡°They don¡¯t have a damage rating, but these are all workman¡¯s gloves. They all have a force multiplier on them to assist with heavy lifting and the like. They will pass the basic requirements for use in the arena.¡± His eyes lit up. ¡°In fact, I¡¯ve actually got these gloves with the highest force multiplier of them all. The durability is only slightly less than the 98 unitol pair, and on a par with all the others, and they have a lower-level requirement. Still too high for you at Level 14, but¡­ you¡¯re insistent. They¡¯re only 85 unitols because they don¡¯t have a magical action, but I think they could be perfect for you, Earl. They increase hand strength, none of them will help with impact, but grip strength, pushing and pulling¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take them,¡± I said, holding out my hands. His eyes narrowed. ¡°I¡¯ve heard some things about you, Earl. Public Akras and too violent by half. Now I¡¯ve met you, there¡¯s a decent man in there.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You seem an alright sort, Dwim, so I don¡¯t want to disappoint you. There¡¯s not an ounce of decency in me, and there never will be.¡± He laughed like I¡¯d told a joke, and I laughed along with him because it was funny. Then he handed me the gloves. ¡°Seeing as you¡¯ve spent most of your money, finding you a durable work vest is much easier. 14 Unitols will get you a bog-standard work vest.¡± He headed over and rustled through piles of leather vests, occasionally holding one up in front of me before shaking his head and dropping it back down. They looked like solid tops, so I decided to trust his process and put my new cloves on. ¡°Well?¡± the guard asked over my shoulder. ¡°Well what?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been able to put them on, so what are the stats? Better to tell me now so that they can be passed for use in the arena.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what the stats are,¡± I muttered. He frowned. ¡°They should show up when you put them on. I don¡¯t know how you¡¯re wearing level-capped items, but you should still have to bond with them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Dwim said, watching the interaction with a vest, finally chosen, dangling in his hand. He had a worried look on his face. ¡°They didn¡¯t register with you?¡± ¡°Nope. But that¡¯s on me. Too many knocks to the old noggin I reckon,¡± I said, tapping on my head with my fist. Neither looked convinced. Dwim was first to speak. ¡°Can you at least check them on your Ascension display?¡± ¡°How would I do that? I¡¯m like a dog on a keyboard with this stuff.¡± ¡°Bring up your basic stat information,¡± the guard said, ignoring my quip. ¡°Done.¡± ¡°Now¡­ mentally shift to your right. Your stats should be replaced with your Holdings page. It will show what you currently possess.¡± I did as he asked and found it was like swiping on a phone, only with a thought. Holdings. Wealth: 13.7U Clothing: Linen Trousers (Common rags) Linen Shirt (Common rags) Armor: None Weapons: None Adornments: Labor of Glove: Level Requirement (14) Price Range ¨C 73 ¨C 110 Unitols Attributes: Durability - 1000 ¨C 100%. Comfort ¨C 68 of 100 Special: 20% increase in hand and forearm strength. I regurgitated the information on the gloves, and Dwim looked relieved. ¡°So they¡¯re showing up. That¡¯s good. Can you feel the increase?¡± I clenched my fist, then shrugged. ¡°Not sure. I think so. Got anything I can crush?¡± He stuck his hand out. ¡°Squeeze my hand.¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°I might break it.¡± He laughed. ¡°I¡¯m Level 30 in Toughness from years working the forge, lad. You aren¡¯t breaking anything.¡± ¡°You asked for it,¡± I said, gripping his hand and squeezing. It was like squeezing a lump of rock, and though I could see discomfort on his face, he kept grinning. I let up. ¡°It felt strong, but you tell me.¡± I removed the glove on my right hand and squeezed again. Dwim started laughing. ¡°A definite difference! I don¡¯t know how you¡¯re wearing them, but they work as they should.¡± He clapped me on the back with his left hand. ¡°From what I hear about your fighting style, these are going to give you an extra edge. If they don¡¯t, come back here and we¡¯ll talk some more.¡± I grinned at the shop owner. ¡°I like you, Dwim, and I don¡¯t say that often.¡± The journey back to my room was both uneventful and carried out in complete silence. I spent most of the time mooning over the gloves, clenching and unclenching my fists. Once inside the room and relieved to get rid of the guard, I locked my door and grinned down at the gloves. ¡°Right, lads, let¡¯s see what you two can do for me.¡± I looked around the room; there was a bed and a desk. I¡¯d never used a desk in my life other than for sleeping on at school, and I couldn¡¯t really see me using one in the future. So I walked over and punched it in the center with all my force. Dwim was right. No difference, and my fist hurt like hell. I tried again, this time with an open palm strike. A huge crack appeared along the center of the desk though I couldn¡¯t really appreciate the damage as my right hand was now a jumble of broken bones. With my left hand, I grabbed one of the table legs and yanked. It didn¡¯t rip off fully, but there was no doubt that the force multiplier had kicked in. One more yank and I had it free. Satisfied at how the testing went, I lay down on the bed and nursed my broken hand while my mind got to work on all the ways the gloves could be useful. Visions of a certain nameless Captain guard dropping to the floor with his throat ripped out. The high cheek bones of Varela Domina¡¯s stuck up face being crushed. And a thousand more images floated around my mind like butterflies. Despite the damaged hand, this was a good day to be alive. Chapter 30 - Adam ¡°You¡¯re what?¡± She met my eyes with an expression of utter seriousness and spoke slowly, ¡°When you go back to your planet, I¡¯m going to come with you.¡± It still wasn¡¯t registering properly. ¡°Why on Earth would you want to do something like that?¡± ¡°A portal that only opens every fifty years! I can get away from this toxic, decaying Union and all the expectations placed on me because I was unlucky enough to ascend with a high base Toughness, and no one would ever find me!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know much about your life, Ressa.¡± I looked around the garden, and at the beautiful buildings of the academy, then back at the Duchess of Nessoran and frowned. ¡°But I don¡¯t think you¡¯d like Earth.¡± ¡°Do you have any gardens like this? Or even just the ability to grow lush plants on your planet? Because if you do, then I will be happy.¡± ¡°I mean, yeah, sure. We have loads of beautiful gardens and plants and things. We even have these fire flies. But the people there are¡­¡± I sighed. ¡°Most people on Earth would be¡­ distrustful of someone who looked so different. You¡¯ll be shunned.¡± ¡°I do not look so different to you. Different skin tone. But we are of similar height. And¡­¡± She started to glow all over her body, and her appearance began to change subtly. I gasped and took a step back as skin tone turned to a very similar color to mine. She still looked like her, still had some of the unusual features, but with a hat covering the ears, maybe a little makeup, she would fit right in. ¡°I can adapt if I need to. But as you have no magic there, I will most likely create a beautiful garden, lace a defensive barrier around it and be happy.¡± ¡°Okay. I stand corrected. You¡¯ll probably be okay. But seriously, what are you running from that you¡¯d want to do this?¡± She tightened at my question and shook her head. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡± I reckoned I would, but we were interrupted by footsteps coming along the garden path. We both looked in the direction of the sound, and Ressa nudged me and gestured to move. But it was too late. The same Archon woman who had escorted me to my dorm room earlier entered the clearing. ¡°What are you two doing out here at this time? Curfew ended over twenty-minutes ago.¡± Ressa was quick to respond, more polite than I¡¯d expected too. ¡°Apologies, Aeloria. We¡¯re heading back now, Adam here is new and had to take his class choices to reception. I was just showing him the garden on the way back, and I lost track of time.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not interested in your excuses, Ressa. Get back to your dorm now. I will be reporting this.¡± ¡°It was my fault,¡± I said quickly. ¡°I got lost and Ressa had to come and find me. So if you report anyone, report me. You should probably mention what an amazing job Ressa has done to help me in my ignorance. She should be commended, really.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± Ressa said, grabbing my arm and leading me off down a path away from the Archon. Once we had cleared enough distance, she spoke again. ¡°Thanks for trying to save my honor, but she¡¯ll still report me. They love any chance at causing trouble, and that stuck up sapling is the pride of the first years. She¡¯ll report me anyway.¡± ¡°Worth a try,¡± I grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can be any lower here with my mighty Level 16!¡± She snorted laughter at that. ¡°Hopefully, if my brother comes through for us, it won¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°That¡¯d be nice,¡± I said with rekindled hope. ¡°Don¡¯t talk about it again. There¡¯s always ears in this place. I¡¯ll let you know if and when he can do it.¡± Her words and the arrival of the Archon seemed to dampen the mood now, and we navigated back to the dorm in silence. The following morning, the room was a hive of activity that saw me waking up groggy and confused as the weeks of sleep deprivation caught up to me. The others moved about with practiced efficiency. Not wanting to be left behind, I quickly pulled on my uniform, rinsed my mouth out with some water as toothbrushes didn¡¯t seem to be a thing here, then we were off together heading for the breakfast hall. There was an obvious sense of haste across the hall for this meal. The advent of lessons prevented a leisurely atmosphere. Even so, the spread for breakfast was just as exciting as for dinner, but consisted of more fruit, bread, and cold meats. I ate with less distrust, already feeling more comfortable in my new environment. Though, I sniffed at the fruit juices before I tried them and found a number of them were pleasant enough to risk a drink. I also copied the others in collecting a cup of a steaming black drink that smelled of black treacle but tasted like a mildly sweetened black coffee with a hint of almond. Ressa nudged me. ¡°Evocation for your first lesson. We haven¡¯t heard back from reception yet, but it¡¯s on our way if you want to walk with me.¡± The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Sure,¡± I replied. ¡°It¡¯s not like I have any idea what else to do.¡± ¡°Come on then, we¡¯ll get a head start.¡± She jumped up, grabbing her empty tray, and I looked down forlornly at my unfinished smorgasbord. A brief glance up showed her already halfway across the hall depositing her tray at the cleaning station. ¡°Best go,¡± Yoru said. ¡°Our Ressa is a force of nature when she has an idea in her head.¡± She really was. If it wasn¡¯t for her, I probably would have still been sitting in the dorm with no bed or uniform, wondering what the hell was going on. Hell, she¡¯d even sorted a potential portal out for me! With the realization of just how much she had done for me ringing around my head, I jumped up and followed after her quickly, half-finished meal forgotten. ¡°I meant what I said last night, by the way,¡± she said without any kind of lead in. We¡¯d gotten halfway down the corridor, and there was a solid flow of traffic, so I could hardly believe she was talking so openly. ¡°Thought you would probably appreciate the confirmation that it¡¯s a plan we can go for.¡± Gobsmacked, I struggled to reply. She looked back over her shoulder with a serious expression. ¡°You do want to, yes?¡± ¡°Well¡­ I haven¡¯t had any better offers¡­¡± ¡°Good. Then we have a deal. Ah, and we have a receptionist.¡± I looked past her, through the throng of Archon students and spotted the receptionist in question. Unfortunately, it was the same one from yesterday. ¡°Great. That utter ass,¡± I muttered. ¡°They all are,¡± she assured me as we came to a stop in front of the desk. Unaware of what we were talking about, he looked up from some paperwork. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I have Adam Henshaw of House Garazal with me.¡± She stood straight-backed, regal even, and she spoke with calm authority. ¡°We left his class choices last night, but no one was here at the time. Do we have an official timetable for him yet?¡± ¡°We do not,¡± he replied, curtly. ¡°But I will see that you receive it later this morning. What is your first class?¡± ¡°Evocation,¡± Ressa said. ¡°I¡¯m in the class, so I can guide him.¡± The receptionist did his best impression of a smile. ¡°Perfect. I will ensure that you have a timetable delivered to you at the end of your Evocation class.¡± Ressa clapped her hands together in unnecessary delight. ¡°Perfect. Thank you for your assistance.¡± Then we were off once more, and I suddenly had the feeling of being swept up in a whirlwind. ¡°Hurry! We don¡¯t want to be late for Master Crathinius.¡± She burst out of a set of doors at the back of the school entrance hall. Though as I caught up, she didn¡¯t appear to be too concerned. ¡°Outside, is it?¡± I said as we set off across a well-manicured lawn. ¡°I can see why you don¡¯t talk too much with observations like that,¡± she replied with a satisfied grin on her face. ¡°There could be more buildings.¡± I gestured ahead of us. A hundred yards ahead was a dense tree line that hid whatever was behind it. ¡°Then let me enlighten you. Evocation class is definitely held outside.¡± We broke through the trees only to be greeted by a large field. In the distance, I could see people moving around. As we grew closer, I recognized Yoru and Ellaazi in the crowd. Yoru waved as we approached. ¡°Made it!¡± he said as we came close enough to speak. ¡°Of course we made it!¡± Ressa replied, with look of fake outrage I was beginning to recognize. ¡°Attention Class!¡± shouted a tall Archon with black robes and a mix of gold and silver hair showing his age despite his ageless face. ¡°As I recall, we were working with Flame Blast. I take too many classes to remember who was competent and who wasn¡¯t. So please, can we have those who mastered the skill over on the left here. And those who are yet to master it remain where you are.¡± The class began to shuffle, and for a moment, it looked as though everyone had mastered it. To my relief, two Archons remained where they were. ¡°Wonderful. For today¡¯s lesson, I will be working with those of you competent enough to follow simple instructions. The rest of you, if you want further tutelage in this area, I suggest you recount everything that I have taught already and learn how to use Flame Blast at your earliest possible convenience.¡± Standing there like a lemon, I rapidly developed an intense dislike of Mr. Crathinius Asshole. I glared at his back while he turned to the larger group of around forty students and began explaining their next assignment. Then I turned back to the others and watched them for a minute as they concentrated with angry expressions and tried to unleash the skill. As the other part of the class began shooting bolts of fire, blasting targets at the other end of the field, I realized that I¡¯d been watching the wrong people. I watched Ressa first. Out of all of them, she seemed pretty competent. Her flame size was about average in the group, and she was more or less hitting her target with every shot. In contrast, the stone-faced hall monitor was producing flames twice the size, throwing two to everybody else¡¯s one, and hurling them with merciless accuracy. And of course, that¡¯s where the teacher was, lavishing her with praise with his tongue so far her up her arse it was hard to tell where she started and he finished. Not only was Aeloria the hall monitor incredibly skilled, she was also very perceptive and noticed me watching. Her face twisted into a scowl that the teacher noticed and followed. ¡°What is this?¡± he demanded. ¡°Why are you just standing there? Can you not follow simple instructions?¡± I saw Ressa turn, about to speak up for me, but I¡¯d already moved to defend myself. ¡°Apologies, Master Crathinius. I was only admitted to the academy yesterday, and incidentally, that¡¯s also when I opened my mage class.¡± ¡°Ah, the favor for House Garazal!¡± His scowl deepened as he spoke. ¡°Hard to believe they¡¯ve decided to just throw you in here and expect the teachers of this fine institution to expend even more of their hard-won energy trying to bring you up to a suitable standard. What if you¡¯re not even capable of proper magic use? A far-flung plebeian from a magicless planet.¡± He let out a long suffering sigh. ¡°Yet, here you are.¡± He turned to the class. ¡°Continue to practice Flame Blast. Remember, we are looking for form before power. Accuracy first. Once every single attack hits the first two rings of the target, you can increase your speed. If you faulter, reduce your speed. Once you can throw an accurate attack every three seconds, only then can you increase the power of the attack.¡± He turned his withering glare back on me. ¡°I will spend some time with our Level 16 Novice here.¡± Aeloria gave a delicate cough. ¡°If you¡¯d like, sir, I can spend some time teaching the newcomer. It¡¯s not right that everyone else here has to suffer for one rogue element, and I feel I have already reached an acceptable level with Flame Blast.¡± ¡°Ah, Aeloria! You really are a paragon of your house! A beacon of what an Archon should be! And most of all, a joy to teach.¡± I wanted to puke. If I didn¡¯t miss my guess, Master Crathinius harbored much darker thoughts about Aeloria as well by the lecherous look in his eyes. I was surprised he didn¡¯t just slap her ass there and then. She bowed, stiff like a robot. ¡°It is an honor to be of assistance, Master.¡± He clapped his hands together, ¡°Such selflessness. It will be remarked upon in your class report. Do not doubt that.¡± She smiled, and it was about the first crack of true emotion I¡¯d seen from her in our limited interactions. She headed toward me, and the teacher watched her all the way until she stood in front of me. ¡°Come, Adam Henshaw. We will get to the root of your incompetence.¡± Beyond the Master, I noticed Ressa eyeing us sourly. I smiled and waved and then hurried after the Duchess of Hall Monitors. Chapter 31 - Adam When she finally came to a stop, at least fifty yards away from the rest of the group, she turned and scowled at me. ¡°Before we begin, I just want you to know that the Warrior Mage academies were set up by some of our greatest Archons long before the Union was ever created. I have nothing against other races, but none of you are good enough to be here. It is political maneuvering and nothing else. I accept it, but I see it for what it is. ¡°When the school was first founded, the lowest acceptable Harmony level was 12! The same as it is to become a mage! We were rare! Now it is 11, and quite frankly, I find that abhorrent. We are no longer special. We are diluted, and if the Xeo do return, we will suffer for this.¡± I tried not to gawp. I probably failed. ¡°Wow. You¡¯d have loved Hitler. But just so I¡¯m clear, the Xeo, are they the ones who kicked your privileged arses from one side of the universe to another? You had to join forces with the Velorian Empire to survive?¡± She looked for all the world like she wanted to kill me, which was impressive considering her expression hadn¡¯t changed apart from a twitch in her jaw and a hardening of her eyes. ¡°I see your Velorian roommate has given you the Velorian version of events. I wouldn¡¯t put too much faith in her words. Velorians are naturally bitter because of our martial superiority.¡± I realized I really didn¡¯t want to talk to this woman anymore. Being beautiful wasn¡¯t enough to make up for the rest of the package. ¡°If that¡¯s how you feel, then why the hell did you agree to help me?¡± ¡°For that exact reason. I want our teachers training Archons to become the best they can be so that they can fight for the Empire.¡± ¡°Empire? And here I thought it was called the Union.¡± ¡°The Archon Empire is within the Union. It preceded the Union, and it will outlive the Union, providing we have soldiers with adequate skill to fight the fights that need to be fought.¡± ¡°Can I ask you a personal question?¡± She straightened like she had a stick up her backside. ¡°That depends entirely on what that question is.¡± ¡°Are you intentionally running this lesson on with me by talking nonsense so that I don¡¯t learn the Flame Blast skill and prove to everyone that I¡¯m not as useless as you say I am?¡± ¡°A typical Velorian suspicion. You would do well not to allow their poisonous mentality corrupt you if it¡¯s not too late.¡± Her face remained impassive, but I could feel the smugness in her words. ¡°Now, on to Flame Blast. It might help us tap into the power if I knew what skill you already have?¡± ¡°Seems like something you could use against me,¡± I replied slowly. ¡°And you¡¯ve already proven you have no love for anyone who isn¡¯t an Archon. I think you need to try without knowing.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± she said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You intend to make this as hard as possible for yourself.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Seems to me that if you can¡¯t teach me after a couple of hours of one-on-one tutoring, then you¡¯re going to look pretty bad yourself. The amazing Aeloria failed to teach the primitive with high base Harmony simple magic.¡± A flush of red colored her smooth golden cheeks at my words ¡°Oh, if you¡¯re capable, I will drag the skill out of you. Now focus! Feel the warmth in the air.¡± ¡°Okay. Definitely feeling the heat.¡± ¡°Now draw that warmth into your core.¡± She placed a hand on her diaphragm. ¡°Focus it with your mind, then let it out through your hands with intent.¡± I did exactly as she instructed, concentrating on my skin from the warming sun. I absorbed it, I enjoyed it, I reveled in it. Then I tried to draw it into my core? When I had created Spirit Burst, I was barely lucid, but I tried to recall the sensation, hoping to come up with an answer. Aeloria¡¯s huffs and puffs were distracting, but I tightened my focus to block them out. After following her instructions, and trying multiple times in slightly different ways to access the power, I gave up on her way, and instead recalled the sensation of Spirit Burst. Once I had it, I tried to attach the heat from the air to it before mentally condensing the energy to a tight point in my hand. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Something clicked into place. I felt a surge of elation, just before everything went to hell. Instead of creating a ball, all the heat I¡¯d absorbed mixed with a little spirit energy burst from my body. Aeloria screamed and jumped back. ¡°Are you insane! You just nearly incinerated me.¡± She patted at a burning strand of hair. Thankfully, that was the only damage I¡¯d done. Under normal circumstances I might have felt guilty, but not with this arrogant cow. ¡°I did the thing, though. Maybe stand further away next time?¡± Her fists clenched in outrage. ¡°No. You didn¡¯t. You just learned Flame Burst.¡± I checked my mage skills and discovered I did indeed have Flame Burst now. ¡°That still counts though, right?¡± She sneered. ¡°Of course it doesn¡¯t count, you imbecile. It¡¯s the wrong power.¡± ¡°But technically,¡± Ressa interrupted, having wandered over while the others still practiced. ¡°It¡¯s harder than Flame Blast to achieve, so you should be able to pick up Flame Blast much easier now .¡± Aeloria looked ready to pop. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here, Velorian. You have practice to do.¡± Ressa grinned. ¡°I increased my speed, and then doubled the size of my attacks. Master Crathinius was so happy with my development that when I offered to take over from you and free you from this awful task, he jumped at the chance. He said you can either help the others¡±¡ªshe pointed at the two struggling Archons¡ª¡°or you can go back over so that he can stare at your backside some more.¡± I officially witnessed Duchess Aeloria Besas embarrassed, angry and at a loss for words all at the same time. It was a beautiful sight. She left without reply. I grinned at Ressa. ¡°Thank you for that. And not a moment too soon.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now we just need to teach you how to not be a liability. Flame Burst is taught in year two for a reason. It¡¯s dangerous and difficult to control.¡± ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯ve got it in the bag and another level in the Mage class, thank you very much. At this rate, I¡¯ll be a Level 30 Mage in no time.¡± ¡°Hardly.¡± She patted my shoulder. ¡°It gets a lot harder the higher you move through the levels. New spells always bring a boost, but it becomes quite the grind even with them. Now, shall we return to producing Flame Blast? It should be easier now that you have the extra level in Mage class, and a skill in Fire Magic.¡± ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t want to leave here without it.¡± ¡°Then focus the power. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡± Her eyes flicked to the side to check on the main group and then back to me. ¡°I know a little trick. You okay with me using it on you?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said, regretting my decision as soon as I said it. Her hand landed on mine, and it felt cool to the touch. ¡°Bring up Flame Burst but do not let it go.¡± Sweat pin-pricked my head at the sudden tenseness of the situation. I did as she asked, but I was terrified I might accidentally hurt her. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going to create a focal point on your hand and together we¡¯re going to carry the heat energy you¡¯ve absorbed to that point.¡± ¡°Is this normal?¡± I said through gritted teeth. ¡°No. Not at all, and¡­ I¡¯m not exactly sure why I am risking myself to help you like this.¡± ¡°Then stop.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t now, we¡¯re linked. I pull away, and Flame Burst goes off and I burn.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation, I know why I¡¯m doing it now.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re going to need Flame Blast in the near future.¡± She winked at me. ¡°Oh, and because I hate Aeloria, and teaching you this will hurt her more than punching her in the nose.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fair. Come on then. What do I do now?¡± ¡°Just focus on the focus point.¡± I did as she asked, and when I pushed the heat to that point, it went smoothly without any fight. Ressa stepped to one side. ¡°Fire it at one of the targets down there,¡± she said, pointing and holding onto my arm to guide it. ¡°Fire,¡± she hissed. So I did. Like telling your fingers to grip and un-grip, my body seemed to know what to do and a bolt of fire shot from my palm. Ressa quickly removed her hand and heaved a sigh of relief. ¡°Thank the serpent that worked.¡± I checked my stats again as I felt a slight change in my gut. Name: Adam Henshaw Title: ¡ª Level: 16 Class: Warrior/Mage Stats: Progress in Class: Mage Skills: Spirit Burst (AoE) Level: 1 Flame Blast (Projectile): Range 200 yards Conjure a ball of intense flame and hurl it toward your target to create fire damage. Flame Burst (AoE) Level 1: Self (5-foot radius, scalable) Unleash a burst of absorbed heat energy in the form of flames centered around yourself. Anyone within a 5-foot radius will take fire damage. ¡°No more points in Mage class, but I did get an upgrade in Harmony.¡± ¡°Amazing. So what are you now?¡± I frowned at her. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in sixty days.¡± ¡°Good to see you learning. And well done, Adam. These aren¡¯t good circumstances to learn in.¡± ¡°Are they ever?¡± She took on a dark look at that. ¡°I suppose not. Now do it without my help, You should be able to now that the skill is active.¡± I returned my gaze to the target, raised my hand and conjured another ball of fire. I grinned and let it go. Missing the target by a fair amount was no disappointment. I was learning magic! A shout came from behind us. I turned to see the teacher walking over. ¡°About time! You can join the end of the line, Adam. We have fifteen minutes left to work on your aim.¡± Chapter 32-Adam As we left the class, a small, gray alien no taller than my waist came running up with a file in its hand. ¡°Adam Henshaw of House Garazal?¡± I nodded. ¡°Here is your class timetable.¡± He handed over a timetable, then turned and ran before I could pull up his Identifier. I also learned a valuable lesson. You can¡¯t identify people if they have their backs turned to you. There may have been more nuance to it, but it was good to know. I needed to be quicker identifying people. ¡°Everything as it should be?¡± Ressa asked, looking over my shoulder. ¡°Yep. Siege Craft next.¡± ¡°Torma is in with you. He seems to enjoy it well enough. I¡¯d rather watch a stone wall.¡± ¡°Hmm. Well, we have Unarmed Combat, so I should see you there.¡± She shook her head and pointed at a symbol on my time table. You¡¯re not in my class. It¡¯s split into two because of the numbers. You¡¯re in Torma¡¯s again.¡± I was surprisingly disappointed at that. Though I didn¡¯t have a problem with Torma, he wasn¡¯t anywhere near as nice to look at. On the plus side, If I had to spar one of them, I¡¯d rather it not be Ressa. She clapped me on the shoulder. ¡°See you back in the dorm later.¡± Then she was off to join Yoru and Ellaazi while Torma trundled over to me. ¡°You ready for three hours of hell?¡± ¡°Siege Craft? Ressa just said you enjoyed it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because I lied once when she asked. Best thing about it is I get a little shuteye before Unarmed. If you hear my sleeping song, you don¡¯t be interrupting me. And don¡¯t worry about the Master, he¡¯s as deaf as an anvil and he rarely looks round.¡± ¡°Not exactly selling it,¡± I grumbled as we set off back to the main buildings. Siege Craft was everything Torma promised and more. Master Morash was a frail and glassy eyed man, and without doubt, the oldest Archon I¡¯d seen yet. I checked his identifier: Name: Erkal Morash Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Title: Master of Union Combat Level: 18 Class: Tradesman I nudged Torma. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. He¡¯s clearly ancient. Why is his level so low?¡± He¡¯d chosen seats at the back of the horseshoe lecture theater and was already settling into the wide comfortable seat like he¡¯d been poured into it. ¡°Use it or lose it,¡± he said distractedly as he shuffled to find the exact position he needed to be comfortable. ¡°You can lose levels?¡± That brought a laugh. ¡°Of course you can. That old fella was in the first wars against the Xeo. Word has it he was high forties once upon a time, so he must have had a high Warrior class as well.¡± ¡°Damn. I had no idea.¡± ¡°Yeah well, it doesn¡¯t make him any more interesting.¡± A huge Archon student a few rows ahead of us turned and glared at Torma. ¡°Show some respect, Grunir. Or I¡¯ll teach you some next lesson.¡± Torma¡¯s head rolled back in reply, as if he¡¯d fallen asleep. The Archon glared at me instead, so for some reason, I decided to smile and wave. His irritation turned to disgust as he turned away as if he¡¯d just fallen in dog shit. Silence fell over the class for a few long moments before the Master began speaking in a slow, monotone voice. ¡°Today we will cover the siege of Osiris on Ebardel. The world of Ebardel had been in Archon possession for over one hundred years at the time of the conflict. The year was 3219 Pre-Union calendar, and the main combatants were the Archon house of Aronel and the hateful Siroth terrorists.¡± Such a small introductory statement to a class, yet I was already painfully bored just by the droning deliver. I sat up straighter, and tried to hone my focus to listen. ¡°Now, it is essential to understand the broader context of the siege of Osiris. The Archon House of Aronel had long been the stalwart protectors of Ebardel, a shining beacon of civilization and order. Under their rule, the world prospered with a structured governance that allowed its people to live in peace and safety. The Siroth terrorists, led by the Baranax rebels, cried liberation, but they sought nothing other than to cause chaos and tear down the civilization our ancestors had built.¡± I could see why Torma chose sleep. So far, all the Master had provided was a propaganda piece that was so transparently obvious even to someone who had no knowledge of the situation here. I found it hard to believe that the rest of the class was enraptured by his words. Yet as I looked across the room, that¡¯s exactly what was happening. Young Archon eyes and ears lapped up the old man¡¯s words. Filled with a sense of dread, I still attempted to find something positive to learn from the lesson. ¡°¡­it is here that we must acknowledge the inherent weakness in the hearts of the natives of Ebardel as a whole and recognize that the brave Archon forces still did not abandon the people to their fate¡­¡± I was out. It was hurting my brain to listen to the mad ramblings. I glanced over to the snoring Torma who¡¯s head hadn¡¯t moved since the last time I looked. I was insanely jealous. I tried to follow suit and catch up on some much needed rest. Three hours later, I was still conscious, though a small part of my soul had been ripped from me. I¡¯d take a day in the Ennochamber over this. Somehow, the drooling Torma came awake just as the lesson ended. ¡°That it?¡± he said, rubbing at his eyes and mouth. ¡°It is. And you should have warned me.¡± He laughed. ¡°Nah, I shouldn¡¯t have to suffer alone, and one off these days, I might not wake up in time and I¡¯ll need a friendly nudge.¡± ¡°You monster.¡± That had him laughing all the more as we made our way from the room. ¡°Please tell me Unarmed Combat is less¡­ Archon Narrative.¡± He grimaced. ¡°Yeah, it is, but Yoshun is an utter bastard.¡± ¡°Oh joy.¡± Chapter 33-Adam Forty of us stood in a semicircle, waiting for Master Yoshun. Despite his silvering hair, every strand of every muscle stood out in his arms, and when coupled with the mass of scars he sported, there was no doubt he was a mean-looking son of a bitch. Name: Alon Yoshun Title: Combat Master of the Velkyn Academy Level: 38 Class: Warrior His eyes swept over us, not lingering for a second as he barked out. ¡°We are continuing our lessons on breaking holds against stronger opponents. If the Xeo scum do come again, then I want you ready to face them, hand-to-hand if need be. I want you prepared!¡± Torma huffed. ¡°If I have to fight a Xeo with no mana and no weapon, the only hand they¡¯ll get from me is when I wave goodbye over my shoulder. As I run away.¡± I snorted at that, and thankfully, Master Yoshun hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°Are they tough?¡± I whispered. Keeping his voice low, he replied, ¡°I¡¯ve only seen pictures. They look at least the same size as an Unalaran but scarier looking. And get this. Most of them can get stronger when they kill you. They drain your energy and some of them can even grow. I heard they get bigger than Ogrids!¡± ¡°You two, shut up!¡± Master Yoshun snapped. ¡°When I¡¯m talking, you are listening.¡± I swallowed and looked back. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t double down, and continued his lecture. ¡°The Xeo, like all other races, have weak spots. Arun, you¡¯re the biggest here. Come forward and let us demonstrate the move we will be working on today.¡± Arun stepped forward, and it was the huge Archon who¡¯d been sitting in front of us in Siege Craft. Name: Arun Tachal Title: Scion of House Tachal Level: 20 Class: Warrior/Mage The Master fell into a stance like some Tai Chi move. I instantly hated it. Anything that fancy had no place on a battlefield. Arun adopted a similar pose as the teacher snapped at him. ¡°Strike me.¡± Arun lunged forward. It was a fast and powerful strike directly at the Master¡¯s face. It would have stung if it landed, but it was so badly telegraphed that a sloth could have avoided it. The Master easily dealt with the blow with a left-handed parry to Arun¡¯s elbow. He brought up his own right hand up and grabbed Arun¡¯s wrist, locking the big man¡¯s arm out. Arun yelped, and Master Yoshun stepped back, releasing the hold. ¡°Did you all see? Not only did I control the fight, but if I was so inclined, I could have snapped Arun¡¯s arm.¡± He scanned the watching faces again, and once satisfied everyone had nodded their understanding, he pointed to Arun. ¡°Again! This time, strike with your left.¡± I groaned at the display and side-eyed Torma. To my surprise, he seemed to be paying attention. The display unfolded with identical results, and Yoshun clapped his hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s begin. I want you to all pick a partner to practice the move. Do not break the arm. Yes, you can be healed, but the paperwork I have to fill when a first-year student is injured is truly terrifying. If it does happen, I assure you that the offending student will be staying behind after class to fill it in for me while everyone else is eating dinner. Now pair up.¡± Torma and I naturally gravitated to each other. I looked at his massive arms and grinned. ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any risk of me breaking them. They¡¯re like tree trunks.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not me I¡¯m worried about,¡± he said, wringing his massive hands together. ¡°It¡¯s those branches.¡± He nodded at my perfectly acceptable arms. ¡°This is what arms are supposed to look like.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Sure, sure. You need me to go slow? Seeing as it¡¯s your first unarmed class and all?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s not exactly my first,¡± I replied. ¡°But I suppose until we get a measure of each other, slow would be better.¡± We both copied the stance we¡¯d been shown, and Torma threw the punch, and I methodically repeated the move. We did both sides, and then switched so that I was striking. Like him, I took it slow, and he shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re actually supposed to be trying to hit me, you know. A newborn could have blocked that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s called practice, Torma.¡± ¡°Bah, you¡¯re a Level 16. Show me what you¡¯ve got. Get some snap into it. I wanna see a bit of power.¡± I shrugged and threw another, doing as he asked. I had to pull it just short of his nose. He caught it after I¡¯d pulled it, but didn¡¯t seem to realize. ¡°Much better. That almost got me.¡± ¡°Come on then, your turn. You can put some more effort into it too.¡± His beard split into a white-toothed grin full of malice. ¡°You might regret that.¡± We set up again, and he threw a much faster punch. It still seemed like a long way off what I expected his top speed to be, and I was able to perform the block without much trouble. ¡°What is that, Torma? Put some effort into it, boy.¡± I hadn¡¯t realized that the teacher had approached and was watching us. I wished I hadn¡¯t when I noticed his sour expression bordering on disgust. ¡°He was just showing me, Master,¡± I said, not wanting Torma to take any heat. ¡°It¡¯s my first full day here.¡± ¡°We all know who you are!¡± he snapped. ¡°Do you require a medal for it being your first day?¡± I raised an eyebrow at the rude arsehole and opened my mouth to reply, but then closed it again. It would achieve nothing. People who abused their power always had an answer for everything. ¡°Come on then, again!¡± he snapped, glaring at the two of us. ¡°We haven¡¯t got all day.¡± We reset our positions, and Torma threw another punch. It was so much faster and had real power behind it. For whatever reason, he was trying to prove a point, and I was the unlucky target. I had to lean back slightly to avoid being hit, but still easily performed the block. When the master spoke again, his voice had changed. ¡°Do you have much experience fighting, Adam Henshaw?¡± ¡°Quite a bit,¡± I replied. ¡°That was well done. Show me again.¡± Again Torma threw a punch. He went slower this time, and as I performed the block, the Master huffed. ¡°No, not like that, Grunir! Get out of my way.¡± To my surprise and horror, he took his position across from me. ¡°Are you prepared for a strike?¡± ¡°I am,¡± I replied with as little emotion as possible. He threw a punch, lightning fast. I could barely follow it. Instinct and a lifetime of beatings got me out of the way, but I didn¡¯t make the block. The Master tittered, but I was quick to respond. ¡°Apologies, Master Yoshun. I wasn¡¯t expecting such a difference in speed. Again please. This time, I¡¯ll be prepared.¡± ¡°One should always be prepared.¡± ¡°True, but then we are training, and it¡¯s customary when training on Earth to match your abilities to a lesser opponent so as not to hurt or demoralize them.¡± He eyed me again, his lips thinned. ¡°Do you seek to lecture me on the morale of my students?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the last thing I would do,¡± I replied. ¡°I was merely explaining how we do things on Earth and why I was unprepared. If it was a real fight things, would have been different.¡± ¡°No, they would not. For if it was a real fight, you would not have dodged my strike. Despite what you think, the strike was muted for your ability level.¡± The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I could see I wasn¡¯t getting anywhere fast, so I bowed and returned to the starting pose. The teacher struck again, a very similar speed, far too fast for me to deal with confidently, but I still dodged and performed the block to the best of my ability. I didn¡¯t quite catch his wrist and ended up holding his fingers. ¡°Apologies, Master. I just missed, but I think I could get it.¡± He waved me off. ¡°Excuses and apologies are of no use to me, and I have tarried on you long enough.¡± He pointed to one of the other students. ¡°Erale, come. I want you to spar against this new student. You throw first.¡± Around the same size as Yoshun, he was broad-shouldered, thin-waisted, and moved well. He was a Level 20 and had a natural sneer that I couldn¡¯t help but want to remove. Once he was set, Yoshun barked out the command to start, and start we did. ¡°Begin,¡± the Master said. The speed of his punch was approximately the same as the teacher¡¯s, though I sensed he was working at the upper end of his capability and pushing it to prove superiority. I performed the block, and as I promised Yoshun, I caught the wrist and applied pressure to his elbow, making him jump forward to try and get out of the hold. I let him go immediately. I wasn¡¯t looking to make unnecessary enemies. ¡°Better!¡± Yoshun declared. ¡°Now reverse! Erale, you defend.¡± My sullen-faced opponent glared daggers at me as we set our selves. I took a deep breath, then threw a fast and solid strike. It could have been faster, but I wanted to keep a little back. Best not to show all of your cards, especially in a scenario like this. Erale caught my strike with similar ease. Three more times the teacher demanded I perform the punch. ¡°Very good, Erale! Very good. Everyone, stop. I¡¯m satisfied you can all perform the block. Next up is the leg block. Aeloria, dear, you can help me demonstrate this one.¡± The golden girl of the academy happily joined Yoshun at the front. He performed a high kick at her head but pulled it short. My eyes goggled. I could kick a little, but there was no way I was getting my leg up that high. I looked over to Torma. ¡°Don¡¯t expect me to be doing that one anytime soon.¡± He grunted. ¡°Me neither. Maybe just go with low kicks? We¡¯ll probably get an earful, but¡­¡± He shrugged is huge shoulders. ¡°If you don¡¯t got the sinews, you don¡¯t got the sinews.¡± I chuckled and returned to watching Aeloria perform the kick. It was probably more impressive than Yoshun¡¯s, and flicked at his head with startling speed. He blocked it by pushing his left arm up into a high guard and kicked the back of her standing leg. He kicked it in a way that it would break if the pressure was applied to the side of the knee, but on this occasion, his foot wrapped around to strike the pit of her knee and folded the leg. She was so fast and agile that she managed to get her other leg down and a hand down before sprawling on the floor. ¡°Excellent demonstration, Aeloria. Not only in technique but in the importance of high agility.¡± Barely taking a breath, he turned and barked out at us. ¡°Begin!¡± ¡°You go first this time,¡± Torma said. I winced. ¡°Okay, here goes nothing. Literally.¡± I brought my leg around to kick him in the head. As he was short, I almost reached his shoulder, but I was totally out of balance. He whacked my leg away with rather more force than was necessary, then booted my knee to send me sprawling on the floor. ¡°I¡¯m not even going that high,¡± he grumbled as he offered me a hand. I took it, and he hauled me up showing his effortless strength. ¡°Can¡¯t fault you. I certainly won¡¯t be doing that again.¡± He chuckled as we reset. I watched carefully, trying to anticipate where he would kick. It came just under waist height. I blocked it with a low parry and attempted to kick at his knee, but it really didn¡¯t work with him only kicking a couple of feet off the ground. ¡°What is this shambles?¡± Yoshun snapped, surprising me for the second time that class. ¡°Shambles?¡± Torma snapped back. ¡°I¡¯m a damn Grunir. You know my body doesn¡¯t do things like this.¡± ¡°Oh I know that,¡± he said, his icy stare falling on me. ¡°But what is your excuse? Your body constitution is not too different to that of an Archon, if a little smaller and heavier. You have no excuse.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I haven¡¯t spent a lot of time on lower body mobility or agility. It¡¯s definitely a shortcoming for me.¡± ¡°Useless!¡± he snapped. ¡°Why would you neglect such an important area of development? That is something you need to focus on outside of lessons. I expect to see you here in this gym for at least two hours working on lower body agility this free day. I will set you exercises to do.¡± I bowed like I¡¯d seen some of the other students do, though it was an awkward thing, and I decided never to do it again. He spun away to shout at other people, making me glad it wasn¡¯t just me. Torma and I worked on the kicks still until he shouted for attention again. ¡°Right class! Time to spar and incorporate what you have learned today. Arun, Aeloria, you first. Show them how it¡¯s done.¡± The two of them began to circle, adopting wide-footed stances. Both shifted their weight on the balls of their feet like dancers. Arun was the first to strike, a straight right, lightning fast. Aeloria sidestepped and executed a spinning roundhouse kick aimed at Arun¡¯s jaw. He deflected it with his right arm and then kicked out at her knee with his left foot. She fell from the impact, but in the most graceful way imaginable. Using her momentum to regain her feet, she was circling and looking for an opening in an instant. He came with a straight right, which she blocked and used what we¡¯d been shown to grab his arm. He reacted quickly and spun away, showing what a poor defense it actually was, and delivering a high-kick to her side into the bargain. He wasn¡¯t anywhere near as agile as Aeloria, and she blocked the kick and followed up with the attack on his standing leg. He was too strong and managed to ride the kick out, but he still ended up on the defensive as she followed after him with a combination of strikes and kicks. He blocked frantically and finally managed to pinned her arm with the block. I still felt like she could easily get out of it, but Yoshun clapped. ¡°Bravo, Arun. You too, Aeloria. I dare say you are the only one in this class who could get close to landing a blow on Arun.¡± He paired up others, shouting their names out while the rest of us watched. He dissected their fights, pointing out weaknesses and strengths as we all watched. The fights continued until there were only three of us left, and Yoshun frowned. ¡°Torma, you will fight Erale. You,¡± he said pointedly at me. ¡°It seems you have unbalanced my class¡¯s numbers. What to do with you?¡± He looked across the class. ¡°Can I have a volunteer who feels fresh enough to fight the Adam?¡± The Adam. What an ignorant ass. ¡°I will do it,¡± Aeloria said before anyone else could. ¡°No, I will take this one,¡± Arun said. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. You are the best we have. I hardly think that is fair.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t hurt him, I promise,¡± Arun said with an eager glint in his eyes. Aeloria scowled. ¡°And neither will I. I don¡¯t like the insinuation that I can¡¯t control myself.¡± Yoshun shook his head. ¡°Very well. Aeloria, as you offered first, you can have the pleasure of showing our new recruit what real Archons can do.¡± I groaned. I would have infinitely preferred to fight Arun for so many reasons. I generally wasn¡¯t comfortable fighting against women, even if Aeloria was the same height and most certainly stronger and faster than me. It just wasn¡¯t something I was used to. I felt myself falling into the trap of overthinking the situation which never helped anything. Shutting it down, I focused on Torma¡¯s fight against Erale. I wasn¡¯t sure what to expect from that with Torma giving up a lot of height, but there was no doubt that Erale was showing a lot of respect to the Grunir. Once the fight started properly, I saw why. Torma was a vicious little bastard, and he was out for blood. ¡°Cool it, Torma,¡± the Master growled after Torma smashed a big right hand into Erale¡¯s leg. The effect was instant as Erale limped backward on a dead leg, and Torma came after him looking to put him down. The taller Archon just couldn¡¯t handle his low size. Rather than standing tall and using his reach, he crouched down to protect his midriff, removing some of his ridiculous advantage. The match went on longer than any of the others, and I shook my head. It wasn¡¯t how I would have fought Torma. He was playing into the Grunir¡¯s hands. It was an issue I suspected was inbuilt in Archon culture. To believe their style was the best and the only way. The fight only ended when Torma managed to get in the kick-block in. The Archon came with a desperate head kick. Torma threw up a chunky right arm. The slap of the kick rippled against his muscular arm, sounding like a slab of meat being thrown down on a countertop. Torma didn¡¯t move an inch, other than to stick out his foot and kick the inside of Erale¡¯s knee and he dropped to the ground. I was in the process of congratulating him when the Master snapped at me. ¡°Adam, come. We all have things to be doing and we can¡¯t finish the class until you have had your matchup.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t take long,¡± Aeloria said, dropping into her favored starting position in front of the Master with supreme confidence. I wanted to thank her as her words chased all thoughts of taking it easy from my mind. I made a little promise to myself that she was not walking away from this match with that expression of superiority on her face. ¡°It seems we meet again,¡± I said as I came to stand in front of her. ¡°I want you out of this school,¡± she replied coldly. ¡°That¡¯s the only reason I am entertaining this farce.¡± ¡°Ready?¡± Yoshun shouted. I nodded while shifting my feet and straitening up a little so that I was closer to my preferred stance for fighting. I didn¡¯t intend to be kicking, so I used a wider stance. But there was no doubt that I¡¯d be ducking and dodging, parrying and blocking. After training so long with Earl, those were the things I knew instinctively. Those kept me alive and the beatings to a minimum as I got older. ¡°Begin!¡± She drove forward with a front kick, faster than a striking viper. I sidestepped to the left, and threw a straight right to her ribs. We turned at the same time, and I saw the confusion in her eyes, the slight lean to her right where my shot landed. Surprise turned to fury, and she came again. No wild front kicks this time. Those she did throw were cagey, testing the range, prodding. I let her come, moving around her, backing up. Parrying anything that came stronger. I could see the frustration growing in her as we danced. She looked over to Yoshun. ¡°He will not attack. What use is this?¡± Yoshun seemed to be enjoying the engagement, but he nodded at her complaint all the same. ¡°Adam. You cannot run the entire time. Be more active.¡± ¡°Just tiring her down, Master Yoshun. Watching for weakness and waiting to exploit it.¡± ¡°I can see what you are doing,¡± he said, clearly irritated. ¡°And I said I want to see you active!¡± While we spoke, she came faster again. Front kick, left strike, right strike, low kick to the knee to bring my guard down, followed by high kick to the head to knock me out. As soon as I saw the low kick, I knew what was coming, so I weathered the storm, accepted the knee kick which was horrendously painful. And as she kicked high, I shot to the side and forward, aiming for the same spot on her ribs that I hit before. She reacted faster this time and tried to sway out of the way, but I followed through with the elbow, and rammed it in the same spot. Overextended, I fell, but rolled back to my feet, far less ceremoniously than Aeloria could, but I did it to the sweet music of her crying in pain as my elbow found ribs. She was beyond furious now and came at me with a barely controlled onslaught. There were oohs and ahs from the rest of the class as I desperately defended against a master class of striking. Sweat streamed down my head. My arms were getting numb from blocking, barely surviving the onslaught. There was no doubt in my mind that if I didn¡¯t change things up soon and maybe go for a hold that I was getting knocked out. ¡°Aeloria!¡± It was the Master, an edge of panic in his voice. ¡°What are you doing? Stop this instant.¡± To her credit, she regained her control at the sound of his voice and came to stand to attention, rigid as ever and trying hard to mask her heavy breathing. ¡°Do not let your pride get the better of you. I fear Adam has taught you a valuable lesson today. Superior levels are helpful, but skill, knowledge, tenacity, and clearly an abundance of martial practice are equally helpful. I am very disappointed in your loss of control.¡± As hard as Aeloria had taken her inability to score a meaningful strike on me, her heart visibly broke by being admonished by Yoshun. He looked genuinely annoyed. ¡°I apologize, Master Yoshun. I was carried away in the heat of battle.¡± ¡°No, you were embarrassed and frustrated, and that led to carelessness. This free day, you will join Adam in extra training. You will meet for three hours and you will help each other. Adam can help you with control and anticipating your opponent¡¯s moves, and you will help him with lower body mobility.¡± She went a ghostly white as a chorus of snickering and whispering sprang up around the class. She looked about to cry, and I think Yoshun noticed it too. ¡°Class dismissed,¡± he barked out, saving her blushes. Chapter 34 - Earl Nobody came to see me for almost a week, other than the servants with food and drink. Explicitly drink. I tried to do some training, but it was difficult with only one hand. I focused mainly on squat-jumps onto the broken desk. The tilted, rocking angle offered an extra level of difficulty and entertainment as I invariably fell before I could jump off. The fourth day brought two changes. The first was an increase to my Toughness taking it to 17 and my overall level to 10. I was happy to see that. I didn¡¯t mind being underestimated, but I didn¡¯t like odd numbers. The increase coincided with a noticeable improvement in my balance on the desk which was also nice as I preferred not to fall like a jackass. The second event was the return of the Able to my room. He actually knocked before entering, though he didn¡¯t wait for a reply. ¡°Hello, Earl. And how are we this fine day?¡± ¡°Starting to think I¡¯d been forgotten about,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°Oh goodness, no. You are the talk of the arena! I¡¯ve never seen such betting on a first round fight. Not unless a favorite is involved.¡± ¡°They like me that much, eh?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Not at all! The betting is against you. Apart from a few of those in the know, of course. I¡¯m due to make a tidy sum myself if you win.¡± ¡°Can I bet?¡± I blurted out. ¡°I¡¯m afraid contestants are forbidden from betting.¡± ¡°Will you put a bet on for me then?¡± ¡°I will not. And according to Captain Estwin¡¯s report, you have no money left!¡± ¡°True, but you pay me every cycle, so I must be due paying again. A cycle is five days, which means I¡¯m due another six Unitols tomorrow. And after I win this fight, another sixty, so you know I¡¯m good for it.¡± ¡°If you win. What if you lose?¡± ¡°I still get another five Unitols just for fighting.¡± ¡°You do, yes. So let me understand this. You are willing to bet and lose your weekly stipend and fight money on this fight match? You do realize that if you lose, you will have no money at all for the foreseeable future. Your position as a pool fighter will almost certainly be revoked. Lose here, and the only way for you to earn money will be as an apprentice servant. Trust me when I say, those five Unitols will seem like an incredible amount of money to you then.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t lose. Even with this,¡± I said, waving my purple, swollen hand at him. ¡°But I¡¯d prefer it if you could heal it.¡± His face went through a series of emotions but landed on annoyance. ¡°Even in an empty room, you manage to find a fight.¡± He cast an amused glance over at the battered desk. ¡°It was looking at me funny.¡± ¡°At least you won.¡± He held out his own hand palm up. ¡°I think. Now give me your hand.¡± I lay mine in his, hoping I hadn¡¯t misread the signs. ¡°This shouldn¡¯t take too much effort as it¡¯s an isolated injury.¡± He closed his eyes, and began to hum as his hands began to glow. I noticed him wince, but he kept pushing, and I felt the slow process of the bones in my hand move back together. The bruises and swelling began to fade, but the process stopped as he pulled back gasping. ¡°I think you have become even more difficult to heal if that is possible. That could be due to your recent increase in level?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say so. It was in Toughness.¡± ¡°Then there is a correlation between the two. That is helpful to know. And on a positive note, I feel my own skills strengthening by working on you.¡± ¡°Glad I could help,¡± I said absently, inspecting my fist. It felt good, just a little yellowing left over from the bruise. ¡°Hopefully, you can help me even more tomorrow morning in your first official bout.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fighting tomorrow?¡± ¡°Indeed, you are.¡± He pulled out a sheath of paper from his robes, looked forlornly at the desk and then handed it directly to me. ¡°I suggest you read that thoroughly and prepare accordingly. Your opponent is no pushover. His rank of 71 is not respective of his ability.¡± ¡°Huh, thanks. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be getting full dossiers on my opponents.¡± ¡°You¡¯re very welcome, Earl. I will leave you to your preparations.¡± And with that, he was out the door quicker than a rat down a drainpipe. I lay back in bed, document in my hand. The paper was thick and of incredible quality. I held it to my nose and smelled it for some reason. Then opened the first page. I¡¯d be a fool not to take advantage of the information, and I missed having something to read. Artomi Willowstrip. Level 18 Warrior Class (5) Preferred weapons: Dual sabers Fighting style: Dualist. Elegant and swift, emphasizing speed, precision, and fluid movement with an aim to outmaneuver and outsmart opponents. Last Known Stats: Toughness: 23 Mental Acuity: ?? Harmony: ?? Race: Archon/Velorian (Mix) Dimensions (Approx): Height: 5 ft 11 Weight: 160 lbs The document went on to describe their speed and finesse, but mentioned nothing about strength or durability. By the end of it, I had a great idea about the type of opponent I¡¯d be facing. I got up and began jumping up and down on the desk again, though I changed my angles, and added in rolls, jump backs and lunges forward. I kept at it for the rest of the day until my dinner and three pitchers of mead arrived. It was mid-morning the next day by the time a guard came for me, with a heavy-handed knock on the door. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I opened it to be greeted by the Captain Guard. ¡°Earl Henshaw,¡± he said with the grimmest expression I¡¯d ever seen. ¡°I have been given the honor of escorting you to your first fight of the tournament.¡± ¡°Oh lucky me.¡± I went back into the room and grabbed my gloves before being led out. He looked down at my vest as we walked and smirked. ¡°It fits well for a Grunir vest.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a Grunir vest. It¡¯s a vest made by the Grunir. There¡¯s a difference.¡± ¡°Is that so? Did you bother to read the run down on your opponent?¡± He affected a look of mock concern. ¡°Can you even read?¡± ¡°Fucking hell. Are you wearing a personality enchantment or something today?¡± ¡°Very good, Earl. But seriously, did you read it?¡± ¡°I did. Sounds fast.¡± ¡°You have no conception of fast. Your next fight is against an Archon blade master, yet you chose to wore a vest. I imagine, at the very least, you¡¯re regretting that decision?¡± ¡°No,¡± I snapped defensively. Though in truth, I hadn¡¯t even considered it until that moment. I cursed inwardly. My arms were probably going to be shredded by the time this fight was over. It had me wondering what information the elf would have received on me and how he would counter it. That brought a smile to my face. He would have no real idea what my preferred weapons were, other than fists and I suppose a dagger. ¡°So do you have any ideas how you will counter speed, accuracy, and skill?¡± ¡°You tried to screw me over in the market. I¡¯m not telling you shit.¡± But I¡¯m definitely getting something to protect my arms if I can. He didn¡¯t respond, and when we arrived at the armory, he stood to one side of the door and left me to it. The swords came first, and I snatched one up. It felt more comfortable in my hand with the gloves on, but still not something I¡¯d ever use in a fight. I did want to check something important though, and gently ran the blade across the back of my glove. It sliced a shallow groove, and that was with no pressure beyond some of the blade¡¯s weight. That meant that my gloved hands definitely weren¡¯t good enough to be used as protection. In hindsight, as they were going to be my main damage dealers, I wanted to protect them most of all. I put the sword back where it was and continued to look through the weapons. The guard watched me with an uninterested expression, but still spoke as I passed the knives. ¡°I do hope you¡¯re not intending to choose dagger and buckler again?¡± ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡± I grumbled, moving on with the vaguest of ideas simmering in my mind. ¡°They are easy to counter with dual sabers, and your opponent will no doubt have received information on your preferred weapons. Changing them when they are so inadequate is a smart move for multiple reasons, not least to upset the expectation of your foe.¡± ¡°Thanks for the concern. You needn¡¯t worry, though. There¡¯s no fucking chance I¡¯m sauntering out there with a little pig sticker and a dinner-plate against an industrial slicing machine. I need something a bit more defensive. Have we got any long, narrow shields to cover my arms?¡± He grunted. I reckoned it was a laugh. ¡°You want my help now, Earther?¡± ¡°No. I want you to shut the fuck up so that I can find what I need. You¡¯ve probably got a bet against me.¡± ¡°While your personality makes it tempting, I would have to watch you fight before I risked any Unitols on you or against you. I will know by the end of today whether you are worthy of a gamble.¡± I nodded. ¡°Not half as stupid as you look then, huh?¡± I hoped that would be an end to the chit-chat as I redoubled my efforts on finding something that sang to me. The guard fell silent for a little while, and I thought he¡¯d gotten the message, so when he spoke again, I was about to clarify in no uncertain terms the value of silence. Except he piqued my interest. ¡°We have Essau sticks.¡± ¡°Essau sticks?¡± ¡°They are baton-like weapons, predominantly used for keeping the peace. Essentially, they are stout metal sticks with an offset handle. They are poor for this kind of fighting, but they would at least provide some form of defense for one of your forearms. I would recommend a sword or axe for the other.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s have a look then.¡± He walked down the far aisle next to the tower shields, and I followed with an inkling of what he was talking about. I¡¯d been hit with a nightstick or two in my time, and it sounded very similar. He bent down to shelves under the counters I hadn¡¯t even noticed and retrieved the exact thing I was thinking about. It was slightly longer than what the British police used, but I felt a flutter of excitement at the sight of it all the same. I took it from him reverently, then snatched another from under the counter. The I thrust them in the air. ¡°Dual wield Essau Sticks for the fucking win! They¡¯re perfect!¡± I looked back and activated Identify: Name: Olas Estwin Title: Captain of the Velkyn Arena Guard Level: 28 Class: Warrior ¡°Thank you very much, Captain Olas Estwin. You have just gone up in my estimation. It wasn¡¯t hard, but you did it.¡± If he was surprised by me finally using his name, he didn¡¯t show it, and quite frankly, I didn¡¯t care. I¡¯d found my babies! ¡°You really are an odd specimen, Earl. I can¡¯t imagine a single other fighter in this tournament looking at these and describing them as perfect when they are about to face a skilled swordsman.¡± ¡°And that, dear Captain, is why they¡¯re all going to get their heads stoved in.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see. Now, if you¡¯re happy with your selection, I¡¯ll escort you to the waiting area and you can familiarize yourself with your¡­ weapons of choice.¡± ¡°Hell yes. Lead the way.¡± ¡°And, Earl?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°I have been asked by the Able, and I would also like to bring it up myself. If you win and you do not have to kill your opponent, please do not do it. Show restraint and you will go far.¡± ¡°Sure, sure. It¡¯ll be fine,¡± I replied non-committally. Before I knew it, I was alone in the arena entrance antechamber, pacing back and forth, throwing punches from a high guard with the batons reversed so that the long part covered my forearms and the short part stuck out past my knuckles. I would be punching though that stubby little bar and causing a lot of damage with it. As I paced, I swayed from side to side, loosening up my hips. It was common knowledge that punching power came from the legs, but what they didn¡¯t often tell you was that good head movement was in the hips, and I¡¯d need every inch of head movement in this next fight if my suspicions were right. By the time the call came for me, I was loose, warm, and ready. I switched the hold on my batons so that they looked like I intended to use them as batons. Nothing like a bit of subterfuge to kick off proceedings. Two arena guards appeared a few minutes later and beckoned me to follow. It felt more formal than all of my other fights, and they were surprisingly respectful. They escorted me to the entrance and wished me luck, but I barely heard them as I listened to the raucous atmosphere outside. That was certainly new as well. There was a little bit of a wait, and then silence fell upon the crowd like a wet blanket. A booming voice rattled the woodwork in front of me. ¡°PLEASE GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO OUR NEXT COMBATANTS!¡± The door swung open. From there I had a good view of the arena and also my opponent. He covered the ground to the center with incredible speed and was greeted with raucous cheers. When I sauntered out at a sedate pace, the atmosphere changed, cheers turned to boos, the hostility was electric, as if I was some pantomime villain. I replied in kind with my middle finger salute, and I swear, for the briefest of moments, I heard a small cheer from the far corner of the stands. When I looked up, I witnessed a commotion in the crowd. Within seconds it descended into violent brawl. I grinned as it grew in intensity, but had to look away as I approached the center. My opponent¡¯s eyes were on the fight as well, but he turned as I came to a stop. His expression told me everything I needed to know. He was a pompous prick, dressed immaculately in tight-fitting leather armor. His long blond hair was tied back. He looked nothing like a Velorian except for perhaps his height and build. His skin was a dark gold, and his hair seemed to shimmer like burnished copper. When our introductions should have been made, the announcer came with a different message. ¡°APOLOGIES, EVERYONE, THE FIGHT WILL BE DELAYED FOR A MOMENT WHILE WE REMOVE A TROUBLESOME ELEMENT FROM THE ARENA.¡± I saw the armored Arena Guard moving to brutally subdue and remove a section of the audience. I guessed they were the ones who had cheered for me when I made the Akra. Probably for the best. I¡¯d never been one for political¡­ stuff. I had a left hand and a right hand, and I was more than happy to use them both. Or go straight down the center with a headbutt of course. Whatever the situation required. Still, it was a blow to lose the only fans I had, no matter how touched in the head they were. ¡°I¡¯ll win this one for you guys!¡± I roared as they were led out. Definitely not the smartest move on my behalf, but I got such a buzz from antagonizing sensitive fuckwits. The fighting broke out again, but it was mostly the guards beating my fans down as they cheered like dickheads for my words. I chuckled and turned back to the elven man to find him watching me with utter contempt. I winked at him. ¡°Alright, sweet cheeks. You ready?¡± ¡°I have no idea how you got a place in this tournament, but you will go no further.¡± His nasal, arrogant voice was like nails down a chalkboard, and I was tempted to shut him up early. ¡°And wherever did you find those things from? Are you intending to entertain the crowd by playing the drums?¡± Too easy. ¡°I¡¯m going to play you like a fucking drum. And when I¡¯m done, as hard as it was for me to find these, it¡¯s gonna be a damn sight harder for the guards to find them when I¡¯m done.¡± To his credit, he was confident, his eyes showed no fear and his words dripped with nothing but disdain. ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about, Earther, but I do not class those as weapons. I do not consider this a challenge, and to be quite honest, I am embarrassed to be involved in this fight. A fighter of my caliber should not be expected to fight a Level 10 bar brawler. But I am an eternal optimist, and I will at least get two things from this battle. An easy buy into the next round, and the adoration of all these fans who you so love to enrage.¡± The announcer interrupted my reply about the sticks being dildos, which was probably just as well. ¡°APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY, BUT WE ARE NOW READY TO GET FIGHT NUMBER THREE UNDERWAY. CAN I HAVE A BIG CHEER FOR EARL HENSHAW OF THE VELKYN ARENA POOL FIGHTERS!¡± Nothing but boos. ¡°AND FOR ARTOMI WILLOWSTRIP OF THE NEZARUS SYSTEM!¡± The bastard got cheers. He grinned at me. I felt nothing but surging anticipation. Chapter 35 - Earl The elegant shit-stain came at me like a streak of lightning. One sword high, aimed at my neck, the other coming from low at my waist. His speed was sickening. My arsehole puckered a little as I threw myself back. I didn¡¯t totally wimp out, desperately batting at the swords with my batons. Both swords clanged like bells ringing my doom, and that was just the first move. If I was expecting a reprieve, I was wrong. The skinny prick just kept coming like a copper haired blizzard. I backpedaled with all the grace of a kid escaping a wasp. It wasn¡¯t pretty¡­ It also wasn¡¯t an entirely legitimate response to his skill. True, I was in a shit ton of trouble, but I was also over-egging my fear while I got a measure of his skill and the rhythm of his movements. The twig-legged wanker clearly delighted in my display. ¡°You are far worse than I expected, Earther.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll tire soon¡­¡± I wheezed. ¡°Then you¡¯ll be mine.¡± ¡°Fool,¡± he snapped, increasing the ferocity of his strikes to the point it became too much just to escape with the occasional block. My ruse with the Essau sticks had run its course, and I had to reverse so that they lined my forearms. Boos rang out from the crowd as the swords clanged against my shell-like defense. Slashes got through on my arms which bled steadily, but he hadn¡¯t managed anything too deep that I needed to worry about. I was able to ignore it as I followed his strikes. As I counted the beats between them, I felt the ebb and flow of his patterns at work. They were more complex than a simple one-two, but they were predictable. When I feinted to strike, he stepped back and then lunged forward. If I tried to circle he would cut me off, leaping like a ballet dancer to cover my escape. He was also slowing. Not much, but there was a clear and unintentional reduction in speed. ¡°Pathetic, Earther!¡± he shouted as he peppered me with strikes, trying to rile the crowd up and give them a show. Their boos for me answered him, and he loved it. He fed off their adoration. ¡°Have you all seen enough?¡± he roared to the crowd. ¡°Shall I finish this coward?¡± The crowd roared in answer. This was the moment. He sped up again, now intent on finishing the fight. I blocked the blows, but after three, I grunted in pain and feigned a stumble. Victory flashed in his eyes. I fought the smile attempting to crawl on my face as he lunged forward. He overextended. I side-stepped, and he tried to leap to cut off my escape, but he almost fell off balance. He did manage to slash back at me in a desperate attempt to score any kind of hit. I took a knee, avoided the blow and used the short end of the baton in a tight right-hook at solar plexus. I hit a little high, but it was such a good shot, completely un-telegraphed and with bonus power from the gloves, I¡¯d have been disappointed if something didn¡¯t crack as I smashed his sternum. Something did crack. I grinned at the look of abject failure in his eyes as he folded like a house of cards. Slumping to his knees, arms dropping as strength left him. The crowd fell silent. I jabbed him in the temple with the butt of the Essau stick, then spun the right stick around in my hand and drove it down across the back of his head. His burnished copper hair parted as skull cracked open like a soft-boiled egg. The crowd gasped. And the announcer called the fight. I could lie about hearing him later, and brought the stick down a few more times to make sure of the win. Once his pretty face looked like a plate of spaghetti Bolognese dropped on the sand and I was completely satisfied he wasn¡¯t getting back up and catch me with a sly one, I stepped back and raised my sticks in the air. The outraged boos were ringing around the arena louder than ever. I had around thirty seconds to cheer my victory before the Arena Guards arrived, and I was roughly escorted from the arena feeling like a million dollars. I was deposited into the arena antechamber, and all but one of the guards scurried out like they might catch the plague from me. I eyed the remainder. ¡°Everything okay?¡± He pointed over my shoulder. ¡°There are showers in the back. Get cleaned up quickly. The Monarch has requested your presence. You have five minutes.¡± Not waiting for a response, he stormed from the room and slammed the door behind him. Confused by the treatment, considering I¡¯d won, I took a seat on the bench. Then I realized I was tired and probably suffering from blood loss from my arms, so I lay down and closed my eyes for a minute, basking in the memory of the moment I duped the elf. I replayed the scene a few times in my mind, and then checked my stats. The victory should have boosted me nicely on the path of the warrior if nothing else. Name: Earl Henshaw Title: 10th Ranked Pool Fighter of the Velkyn Arena Level: 10 Class: Warrior Stats: Progress in Class: Warrior, Level 6: 5/60 Tradesman, Level 0: 0/10 Mage: 0 As happy as I was with the increase in the warrior path, the levels made zero fucking difference to anything as far as I could see. At least the Toughness and Mental Acuity increases were tangible. Apart from bragging rights, I wasn¡¯t sure what¡­ I must have fallen asleep during my meanderings because the next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake. A voice roared in my ear. ¡°I told you to clean up, you bastard. The Monarch is ready for you now.¡± I gave him a bleary thumbs up. ¡°I¡¯ve felt better, but I¡¯m ready. Lead the way.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. My head rocked back with a heavy blow that damn near broke my neck. My senses came back in full focus, and I kicked out at a knee. It was like kicking a fucking wall, but I was already moving. I had an edge with the gloves now, and the guard was so surprised that he hadn¡¯t even reacted. I landed a right hook on his temple before gripping his gorget and swinging around onto his big old back. From there, I wrapped an arm around his fat neck and attempted to get a gloved grip on his throat. As my probing fingers found his windpipe, another pair of hands ripped me from his back and threw me across the room. A familiar deep voice spoke, ¡°You are not quite ready for that yet, Earl.¡± As my swimming vision cleared, I saw Captain Estwin standing over me. ¡°And you never will be if you continue on your current behavioral trajectory. The Monarch is deeply displeased with you, and I doubt this little incident will endear her further.¡± ¡°Bastard hit me,¡± I growled. ¡°I was half asleep.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no doubt he had his reasons. You are always quick to provide them.¡± To my surprise, he offered a hand to help me up. I took it as I was now as weak as a newborn kitten bathed in vodka. ¡°I will say, after finally witnessing you fight, I will be sad to see you disposed of, if that is the fate the Monarch chooses for you.¡± ¡°Why would she want to kill me? I just won, didn¡¯t I?¡± He shook his meaty head. ¡°It¡¯s not often I¡¯m left speechless, Earl.¡± Then he spun on his heel, and with impressive nimbleness for his size, marched out of the room. While my unsteady legs wanted to collapse, I followed after him, barely conscious of the death stares I got from the other arena guards. The throne room was not well attended, but the Arena Monarch¡¯s anger made up for that. It seemed to fill the empty space. Her charcoal eyes reflected light as she glared at some sort of hologram that replayed my fight. I grinned at the sight. I looked truly terrified as I escaped the attacks of the swordsman. Watching it back, it looked obvious I was faking it, but he ate what I was feeding him like a starving man. As the battle swiftly turned to my skull bashing efforts, the Monarch wafted her hand, and the hologram disappeared. Those eyes were on me now, and I could still see that light in them. ¡°What in damnation was that, Earther?¡± ¡°That was a very cool fucking hologram. Is that what you guys have instead of Tv¡¯s?¡± Her voice dropped low and dangerous. ¡°Why did you not stop after you¡¯d killed him?¡± I shrugged, then lied about my reasons. ¡°You guys have magic. He might have come back to life, so I needed to make sure the job was done right.¡± Her fists were clenched, her purple knuckles straining white. ¡°Nonsense! It was senseless and barbaric. Why would you keep hitting him, you fool? Do you have any idea how bad that looked?¡± It was my turn to get angry. ¡°Hold the fucking phone, pet. Let¡¯s get one thing straight heeeerrreee¡ª!¡± I slammed against the throne room¡¯s double doors. I felt blood dribble from my mouth and down my chin as the protruding metal rivets made their presence known to my ribs again before I hit the floor. ¡°Yes, Earther!¡± she boomed. ¡°Let us get one thing straight. You are here to do as you are told.¡± ¡°No,¡± I gasped. ¡°I¡¯m here because you motherfuckers kidnapped me... I didn¡¯t want to come¡­ but I¡¯m happy to fight.¡± I expected her to rage some more, but she paused, clearly mulling something over. ¡°I will admit, your ability to read a fight and your opponents is extraordinary. I¡¯ve seen very few with instincts like yours outside of elite fighters.¡± I thought she was finished, and I was about to reply, when her neutral expression turned back to anger. ¡°But what kind of animal continues to attack a dead opponent in the confines of a tournament? There will be outrage over this. It will reach other systems and arenas. The Velkyn Arena¡¯s prestige will fall.¡± I waved off her concerns. ¡°It¡¯ll be fine. You¡¯re a clever Monarch, you¡¯ll be able to twist it.¡± ¡°Perhaps, but you still owe me for this, Earther. And this cannot happen again.¡± I felt neither threatened nor subdued by her anger. ¡°I can¡¯t promise that. It¡¯s part of who I am.¡± ¡°What in all the cracks of the Union does that mean?¡± ¡°I dunno. It doesn¡¯t happen all the time, but sometimes, once I start fighting, I can¡¯t stop until I¡¯m completely sure my opponent can¡¯t fight back, which usually means dead. The sports psychiatrists and prison psychiatrists and family psychiatrists don¡¯t know why either. So I¡¯ve just learned to accept it as part of who I am.¡± ¡°A Berserker?¡± the Able said with touch of surprise. ¡°Though an odd one. It¡¯s rare for the loss of control to happen only some of the time. A true berserker is usually consistent in their loss of control and rarely so skilled once provoked.¡± He spun on the Monarch. ¡°We can work with this. One of my prot¨¦g¨¦¡¯s has the Savage Soothe skill.¡± ¡°For beasts?¡± the Monarch said with a puzzled expression. The Able smiled and tapped his nose. ¡°While it is not well known, the skill can and has been used on people too. Particularly in institutes for the insane, though there is some anecdotal evidence that its usefulness against Berserkers is without equal.¡± The Monarch¡¯s gaze fell back on me. She was almost neutral again. ¡°This sounds worthy of an experiment. What¡¯s the range on the skill?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say twelve feet, Monarch.¡± ¡°Make sure his next fight is not with someone whose death will cause issues, and have your apprentice down at the gate ready to act.¡± I cleared my throat and interrupted. ¡°Er, not gonna lie, my Monarchyness, but this sounds a lot like mind control and that is creepy as hell.¡± She glowered at me for a long moment, her mouth twisted in a sour expression as if she¡¯d just bit into a lemon. ¡°It is hard to describe how little I care for your thoughts on this matter. So I won¡¯t. You have no choice. You will be made to fight until such a point as it is untenable, at which point you will be killed. No one on Velkyn will mourn your passing, and by the sounds of it, no one on Earth would either. Now get out of my sight and do not return until you have proven yourself on your new leash.¡± The Able cleared his throat. ¡°There is the other matter, my lady.¡± Her smoldering eyes flickered from me to him and back again. ¡°Ah yes. I can hardly believe I forgot.¡± She stood now, anger radiating from her again. ¡°The Able informs me that you have been repeatedly asked to stop performing the Akra salute in the arena, and that you are undoubtedly in full understanding of how inflammatory it is. He told me that you had promised to stop?¡± I shrugged as she approached, which was apparently the wrong answer. She wasn¡¯t very big. Up to my chin at best, and if it wasn¡¯t for her magic, I¡¯d snap her in half in a heartbeat. ¡°Not only did you perform it again,¡± she said with a finger thrust in my face. ¡°You managed to incite what few fans to violence. That was yet another foolish decision on your behalf if you wish to have any future on the arena circuit. You must stop with the Akra.¡± ¡°Fucking hell,¡± I said, throwing my hands in the air. ¡°I feel like I just got married here. It¡¯s just a middle finger!¡± ¡°But you know that it offends the crowd.¡± ¡°That¡¯s their fucking problem. If they¡¯re gonna boo at me, then they¡¯re getting the middle finger. End of. I¡¯m willing to do the soothing thingy at the end of my fights, but I¡¯m not stopping the finger.¡± ¡°Earl,¡± the Able said warningly. ¡°It means nothing to you. Why would you cause so much trouble over such a petty thing. Please, reconsider.¡± I didn¡¯t look over at the Able. When you had an apex predator in front of you, it didn¡¯t pay to take your eyes off them. And that was exactly what the Monarch was. I could see it in her eyes now that she was so close. It didn¡¯t matter either way, as a moment later, every inch of my body was covered in a glowing, purple light. It got worse a moment later when the energy pushed into the backs of my knees in an attempt to force me to fall. With everything I had, I held my feet. There was strain in her face now from the battle between us, but I wouldn¡¯t go down easy. She won in the end with a simple word. ¡°Guards!¡± They came rushing and seemed to instinctively know the script, smashing me in the back of the knees. I buckled over, defeated by insidious teamwork. ¡°Lift his arms.¡± Meaty, gray hands gripped my arms and yanked them above my head with irresistible strength. I would have killed everyone in the room at that point¡­ if I could move. But all I could do was lock eyes with the Monarch and promise death with my eyes. She met my stare unwaveringly. ¡°Now his middle fingers. Push the others down.¡± I was helpless as each of the guards forced my middle fingers upright and made sure to form my hands into the middle finger salute position. A purple blade formed above me, and I finally comprehended what was about to happen. All of the commands I gave my body to thrash like a madman failed. I remained locked in place. The blade flashed toward my fingers, and I felt the pain. It wasn¡¯t as bad as I¡¯d been expecting, but then judging by the expressions of those surrounding me, the result hadn¡¯t been expected. After back and forth, I couldn¡¯t follow between the Monarch and her Able, she barked a command for Captain Estwin to bring the royal shard. I waited in enraged wonder, fingers still firmly in place. My disappointment was immeasurable at the sight of Estwin marching across the hall with a saber-style sword complete with jewel encrusted pommel. The Monarch took it, swung it around in an unexpectedly impressive display of swordsmanship, then removed both fingers in one smooth strike. ¡°Let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t ruin his ability to punch,¡± the Able chuckled as the barrier holding me dropped and I could speak again. ¡°You absolute bitch. I can¡¯t believe you just chopped my fucking fingers off.¡± Wisely, the guards kept hold of me as the Able set to work healing the two bloody stumps where my fingers used to be. And, as usual, it took him a painfully long time to heal them over and they still throbbed like hell. She ignored me and responded to the Able. ¡°If it does, then it is his own fault. We have been more reasonable than this animal deserves.¡± ¡°Indeed, your highness.¡± He bowed low. ¡°I will escort him back to his room and make sure he causes no more trouble.¡± As I was led away by the Able and Estwin, I shouted over my shoulder. ¡°You better be able to magic my fingers back.¡± The Able nudged me. ¡°I suggest you remain silent before our patient Monarch makes good on her promise to kill you.¡± Chapter 36- Earl Back in my cell, I lay on the bed, nursing my mutilated hands. I studied the little stumps of flesh where my beautiful middle fingers had once lived. I was annoyed. Yet at the same time, I couldn¡¯t help but find the whole thing funny. I¡¯d really gotten under their skin, yet the daft bastards were so desperate for valuable fighters that they didn¡¯t just kill me. I mean, I definitely didn¡¯t want to die just yet. Things to do, brother to rescue, but most importantly, I was intrigued at just how high I could push Toughness. How many tournaments I could fight in! So yes, I had it all to live for, but I still wasn¡¯t going to live on anybody else¡¯s terms. Better dead than that. As for the Monarch and the rest of them, they could all boil in a puddle of piss as far as I cared. I probably would have plotted their eventual downfall some more, but my stomach rumbled loudly. I patted it gently. ¡°Let¡¯s get you fed, fella. You¡¯re wasting away.¡± And it was true. For the first time since I¡¯d been taken, I noticed the paunch I¡¯d developed had well and truly gone. When did that happen? I chuckled, swinging my feet around to the floor. With the fingers gone, I probably hadn¡¯t weighed so little since I was at school. I grabbed hold of my shoulder and flexed my bicep at the same time. Muscular, but none of the packed muscle I carried in my glory days. It would be a few hours until my evening meal came. I could call for snacks, but I had a better idea. Geldark¡¯s meat pies were calling my name. I didn¡¯t have my winnings yet, but the six Unitol stipend was on the shelf by the door. Swiping it up and almost dropping them with the lack of the usual complement of digits, I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it. Then I grabbed the doorknob, half-expecting to find it locked. It swung opened freely, but in its place, standing in the doorway, was the huge figure of Captain Estwin. ¡°Ah, Earl, I was just coming to see you. Were you off out?¡± I eyed him suspiciously. Had he been waiting behind the door? Nah, he thought too much of himself for that. ¡°I was going to go get a couple of those pies from the market.¡± ¡°Nonsense, I¡¯ll have better pies than that sent down for you.¡± I frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are, what you¡¯ve done with Captain Estwin, or how you shape shift so convincingly, but it¡¯s an improvement and I¡¯m here for it. That other guy was a prick.¡± ¡°Very funny, Earl. Amazing that you have so little civility or compassion, yet such a finely honed sense of humor.¡± I grunted, four-fingered hands on hips. ¡°Why would that matter?¡± ¡°Humor usually requires an understanding of those around you.¡± ¡°Oh, I understand you all very well. Don¡¯t ever fall into the trap of thinking I don¡¯t. I¡¯m not that kind of psycho, you see? I¡¯m the laughing type. I laugh all the time. Even at losing my fingers.¡± I waved my hands in front of him, with a big smile. He took an uncomfortable step back, not sure how to take me. ¡°What a story to tell in the pub when I get back, eh?¡± I stepped forward, the smile falling from my face. ¡°But I can tell you what I didn¡¯t find fucking funny. That bitch ruined my new gloves!¡± I rattled the six coins in my hand. ¡°This shit isn¡¯t going to cover the cost, is it?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re expecting sympathy from me about your gloves, Earl, you¡¯re looking in the wrong place. If I was the Monarch, I would have killed you for what you pulled in the arena.¡± I snorted. ¡°Well lucky for me, the Monarch knows a good fighter when she sees one.¡± He placed a hand on the sword at his waist. For a second, I thought he was going to draw it, but it seemed he was genuinely just resting it there. ¡°You¡¯re better than good. I watched you with a keen interest, and your fighting intelligence is nothing short of incredible. I do wonder how low your Harmony must be, though. I heard you tell the Grunir that your Toughness is Level 16 and your Acuity is 10. You paused when you told him your Acuity, which was odd. Added to the fact the difficulty I¡¯ve witnesses in the Able¡¯s ability to heal you, I suspect your Acuity is considerably higher and your Harmony¡­¡± ¡°Go on, then. You know you want to guess,¡± I prodded. ¡°Could it be that you have a Harmony of 1?¡± I chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a secret. Now why the fuck are you here, Estwin, did the Able send you?¡± ¡°He told me to pop in at some point. But I wanted to come and have a chat with you anyway.¡± ¡°What about?¡± He held up a finger. ¡°One moment.¡± Then he gestured at the guard a little way down the corridor. ¡°Have Earl brought two oobel pies from the kitchen.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the guard snapped, and I heard the pit-pat of his feet plodding away unhurriedly. Then the giant captain entered the room. ¡°Your next fight¡¯s in three days.¡± ¡°Good to know.¡± ¡°Have you been to the training room yet?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a training room? Left it a bit late in the day to tell me that, eh?¡± I¡¯d known there had to be, but I¡¯d neither been invited nor escorted to it, and I certainly wasn¡¯t going to ask. ¡°There is. I¡¯ll show you afterwards.¡± I waved off the offer. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking bother. I¡¯m happy to train in here.¡± ¡°But there¡¯s no equipment.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t need equipment.¡± That brought a frown from him. ¡°Whatever you say, Earl. You evidently know what you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°Yeah, I do. Was that it?¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°May I come in for a spell?¡± He closed the door, which made the room feel a lot smaller. I felt the hairs on my neck bristle and my stomach flutter in anticipation. Then he squatted down on his thick rhino legs, looking as comfortable as if he¡¯d just sat down on a chair, and the threat left the room. I sat on the bed opposite him and waited. I was not prepared for what he led with. ¡°Why have you never asked about the friends you came with?¡± I was laughing again. ¡°They¡¯re no friends of mine. Just happened to be lumped along with them.¡± ¡°Hmm. They ask about you a lot. At least the brown-haired one does. The younger of the two gentlemen. He¡¯s very interested in all of your exploits.¡± That caught me by surprise. ¡°They¡¯re still alive? Did they make it through their proving fights?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Not yet. The proving fights are off until the tournament is over.¡± ¡°So where are they now?¡± ¡°They¡¯re still in the prison cells. They¡¯ll most likely be used as servants while the tournament runs, so they can at least earn their keep. They¡¯ll be kept there on basic rations until the next pool intake and save our arena some money. They get the chance to train once a week at the moment.¡± I nodded along. ¡°Ah that¡¯s good to hear. I¡¯m not bothered about the old one. I hope a rat crawls up his arse while he¡¯s a sleep. But I am glad the other one¡¯s all right.¡± ¡°So there is a heart in there somewhere.¡± ¡°The lad helped me out when I needed it. I know how to acknowledge a debt.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to know. I don¡¯t think either of them will win five fights, but I will give them your regards.¡± Like I gave a shit if he did or not. ¡°So what did the Able want you to say to me?¡± ¡°He wanted to give you a rundown of the tournament and the expectations. Firstly. Don¡¯t kill anyone else.¡± ¡°You already have a plan for that, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°We do, but it would be easier if we didn¡¯t have to. You¡¯re in the last sixty-four now, and this is the first round that metal armor is allowed.¡± ¡°Oh how fucking gracious. I¡¯m allowed armor against some bastard with a pair of razor blade swords.¡± ¡°You are.¡± ¡°So what do we get in the last thirty-two, then?¡± ¡°In the last thirty-two, you are allowed to take in one item of armor or weaponry that you own as long as it doesn¡¯t have any boost enchantments. By that I mean anything that allows you to actively use magic. Standard buffs are fine and as the maximum level of the armor will be Level 20, it shouldn¡¯t be anything to worry about. Assuming you win this next fight, you¡¯ll have a decent amount of money along with your winnings from today. You will be able to purchase something to help you.¡± ¡°I sense a ¡®but¡¯ coming. Let me guess before you spit it out. Is there any chance of me being able to afford an item with the money I¡¯ll have that¡¯s better than the gear you already provide?¡± He grinned. ¡°There really is a sharp mind in there, Earl, and you¡¯re right. It is unlikely that you can buy something as good as what we have to offer, and as you can¡¯t use any item enchantments, that goes double for you. ¡°In the last sixteen, you are allowed to use as many personal items as you want, but again with no active enchantments. Again, I would argue you do not need special equipment beyond what we can provide, and by this time, you will have built up a sizeable nest egg for yourself if you have been wise with your money. ¡°For the last eight the contestants are allowed to use one item with an active enchantment. That number increases in the semifinals and again in the final.¡± ¡°So save my money until then?¡± ¡°Exactly. Though you can¡¯t use active enchantments as you can¡¯t bond with items and that will put you at a massive disadvantage in the later rounds.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s geared against me and the poorer people in the tournament.¡± ¡°Not really. The design of the Peripheral tournaments in the early rounds is to even the playing field so that poor fighters with a lot of money can¡¯t just buy their way through with good gear. And poor fighters can showcase their ability and still pick up sponsors. Once that¡¯s cleared up, there¡¯s no reason to continue enforcing restrictions.¡± I scratched my head and thought about it for a little while. Finally, I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s actually pretty smart.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no such limitations in the more prestigious tournaments, but it¡¯s wise to avoid those until you have made your name here.¡± ¡°Which is going to be hard because these bastards are going to be throwing magic at me in a couple of rounds?¡± ¡°It is,¡± he replied. And then with a grimace and a furtive look around, as if someone might be listening, he whispered, ¡°But you should know something else about the rules. That the level cap of 20 is for the participants.¡± ¡°Yeah. I was already told that.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not for the items. It¡¯s not needed because people can only use items of their own level.¡± ¡°Aha!¡± I cheered. ¡°I¡¯m buying what you¡¯re selling. I can get something with some crazy fucking buffs right? Like a Level 100 sword?¡± Estwin shook his head. ¡°You are crazy, Earl. There are no Level 100 weapons. But you are on the right path. A Level 25 item with appropriate buffs should balance the scales of not being able to use active enchantments.¡± I rubbed my hands together. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to go shopping! I should speak to Dwim to start working out possibilities and prices.¡± ¡°Win your next fight first. That¡¯s where your focus should be.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. So what tournaments can I fight in after I win this one?¡± ¡°Another Peripheral until you are too strong. Once you reach Level 21, you will have to move up to the Rise tournaments. That¡¯s followed by the Clash tournament at Level 30, and winning that is¡­ well, it¡¯s the pinnacle of what a warrior can achieve.¡± ¡°Why did you pause?¡± ¡°Because there is also the Grand tournament, which is the greatest tournament of all, but it is impossible for a warrior to win.¡± ¡°No, no, no. Don¡¯t be telling me there¡¯s a better tournament then dashing my hopes. Is it a magic tournament or something?¡± Estwin grinned. ¡°Better. The mages have their own tournaments just like warriors do.¡± ¡°Then what?¡± I growled, starting to feel my ire rise. ¡°The Warrior Mages. They may not be the best mages nor the best warriors, but when you combine the two paths to a suitably high level, they are invincible. If the Xeo return and war does break out, it is the Warrior Mages we will all be looking at to save our Union. Prince Elander, Aazi Stormfront, Marshal Trasn, to name a few. ¡° I¡¯d never felt so angry in my life. ¡°No, they can¡¯t be that tough. Jack of all trades and master of none and all that.¡± Estwin shook his head. ¡°They are that good. I¡¯ve seen some of the finals, and I promise you, you¡¯ve seen nothing like it. Seamlessly blending Harmony and Toughness, they are single-unit armies all on their own.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I grumbled with a whole new desire blossoming in my heart. A new quest to embark on. Find Adam. Kill the Unalar who had kidnapped me. Kill everyone in the Velkyn Arena, and now I needed to beat and kill a Warrior Mage! Life was good when there was a purpose. Captain Estwin was watching me as I ran through my list, and I didn¡¯t like it. ¡°Is that all?¡± I snapped. ¡°I have training to do. Need to get use to these hands without the fingers. It¡¯s gonna play havoc with my grip strength.¡± With a shake of his head, he chuckled, raised his right hand, and removed the glove to reveal he had lost both his ring finger and half of his little finger. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. It never stopped me.¡± It was hard not to offer a nod of respect. It was quite a naughty wound. ¡°How come it was never healed? You can regrow fingers back here with magic, right?¡± I¡¯ll be honest, part of the reason I hadn¡¯t freaked out entirely was because I held out a hope that they could be grown back. ¡°Not regrown. But if the fingers are saved and there¡¯s a mage at hand, they can be reconnected. But if there are no mages and the fingers are lost in the stampede of a city on fire, overrun with Siroth rebels, then it¡¯s a little harder.¡± ¡°Fuck. Did they keep my fingers, do you know?¡± He stood and walked from the room. ¡°Answer me, you bastard. Did they keep them, or am I going to have to go up there and find out the hard way?¡± I grabbed the wooden leg of the table. Estwin turned in the door frame, his eyes dropped to the wooden table leg, and a small smile reached his thin lips. ¡°I would love to see you try. But part of why the Able sent me to see you was to let you know that your fingers are safe, and if you can behave for the next two fights, you can have them back.¡± ¡°Fuck yeah!¡± I gave the air a little four-fingered fist pump. I would still have to kill the Able and the Monarch for stealing them in the first place, but I could be good¡ªfor a little while probably. Just as Estwin went to close the door, my pies arrived, steaming hot and carried by a nervous servant. I took them then kicked the door closed behind the servant as he left. Today was a good day after all. The pies weren¡¯t better than Geldark¡¯s, but they were damn nice and edged the contest of best pie on account of them being free. Once the last of them were swallowed, I dropped to the floor to do some pushups before I got to swinging my table leg about with gusto. The pre-workout pies might not have been the smartest of moves as severe indigestion surged up to punish me, but I had muscle to rebuild and there was no time like the present. Chapter 37 - Earl For the next three days, I saw no one other than the food servant, and that was fine by me. I didn¡¯t leave my room at all, and just ate, slept, and trained. I did every variation of pushup and squat I could come up with. I didn¡¯t do a lot of pulling exercises because I rarely went in for holds and the like. If I wasn¡¯t bludgeoning or thrusting, then in my opinion, I wasn¡¯t doing it right. When Estwin finally came for me, I was rereading the report on my next opponent. A quick refresher, though there wasn¡¯t much to it. Warkal. Level 18 Warrior Class (7) Preferred weapons: Two-handed maul Fighting style: Heavy Weapons. Focuses on overwhelming offense with slow but devastating strikes. High durability and strength Last Known Stats: Toughness: 26 Mental Acuity: ?? Harmony: ?? Race: Salorian Dimensions (Approx): Height: 6 ft 8 Weight: 420 lbs A big old unit, but at least he was in the same kind of height territory, rather than the damn Ogrid they¡¯d made me fight. And he sounded like a brick shithouse type. The kind of opponent I was born to fight. They always went for head shots because what else could they do up there. It meant lots of room to work on the body, and that¡¯s where most fights were won and lost. You only worked the head once they were blowing out their arses and they couldn¡¯t lift their big, daft arms anymore. Or in this case, a massive sounding maul. ¡°You ready?¡± the big captain asked, eyeing the carnage that was my room with a bemused expression. The desk was just a pile of splinters now. ¡°Born ready, big man, lead the way.¡± He stepped back and gestured for me to leave the room, and I eagerly obliged, snatching up the gloves from the bed. I hadn¡¯t been wearing them as much the last few days as I didn¡¯t want to lower their durability any further, and I wanted to rebuild my hand strength without using them as a crutch. We walked silently to the armory, but he seemed to walk with a spring in his step. ¡°What the fuck are you so happy about?¡± I asked as I passed him to make my selection. ¡°Did you read the description of your opponent?¡± ¡°Sure did, sugar plum. But why are you answering my question with a question?¡± ¡°I love tournament time, and I¡¯m intrigued to see how you fare against the Salorian. They are hard warriors.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯ll see one crack today.¡± ¡°That remains to be seen, but I would strongly recommend plate with a gambeson for the encounter. It will provide the best defense against a maul by spreading out the force of heavy strikes.¡± ¡°Nah, too limiting on the old mobility.¡± ¡°You would be surprised. We have well-crafted suits here. They¡¯re designed to allow more movement than you might imagine.¡± I eyed the cumbersome armor with distaste. ¡°Maybe if I lived in one like you guys. But I¡¯ve never worn anything like in my life, and I really need speed and movement to win this.¡± I headed to the chain mail and lifted up what was essentially a chain-mail t-shirt. It looked so fucking cool, and I grinned as I felt the weight. This was what I needed. Estwin put a hand on my shoulder, and I had to hold back every instinct not to attack the bastard. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Chain mail is truly awful against heavy weapons, Earl. It doesn¡¯t distribute heavy impacts. Combined with a thick gambeson, it can absorb some of the energy, but if you are insistent on not plate, then you should look at Lamellar. It¡¯s not as resistant as full plate armor, but it still provides good protection against crushing blows and allows for greater agility.¡± With some reluctance, I put down the chain mail. ¡°Show me.¡± Though in my heart of hearts, I knew I was coming back for the chain mail, and to hell with the consequences. He led me along the line of armor until we reached armor that consisted of small steel plates riveted to a leather jerkin. I picked one up that I thought would fit, and jiggled it about. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it would be any better.¡± ¡°Yet it is. While I can accept your fighting style choices as an expert on the matter, you are no expert on our armor.¡± ¡°But I really like the chain mail.¡± He held up his hands. ¡°Whatever you wish. It¡¯s not my choice to make. I am not technically supposed to be helping you anyway.¡± Perhaps it was because he didn¡¯t try to push it that I folded. You come at me, I¡¯ll come right back. You step away, I¡¯ll probably stop¡­ possibly. I still didn¡¯t trust the bastard, but he seemed so earnest. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll take this shit,¡± I said, giving the armor a shake. Estwin shook his head. ¡°That one looks closer to your size.¡± He pointed a few racks down to a smaller piece. I ignored him and put the armor over my head. Then cursed internally. It was too fucking big. After admitting defeat on the armor, I point-blank refused to listen to him on weapons. He hated my buckler-dagger choice, but it had served me so well against the Ogrid that I went that way again. Before I knew it, I was dressed like a medieval soldier, and all of my worries of mobility and speed restrictions were washed away. I practiced a few moves on my way out. Rolling and ducking. Weaving, darting, and spinning along the arena corridors. I fully expected Estwin to take the piss, but apart from an expression of mild amusement, he seemed more intrigued than anything. When we reached the arena antechamber, he gestured for me to enter. Then standing at the doorway, he offered some final words. ¡°He¡¯s a good fighter, Earl. About my size, has a bit of speed about him and good technique. You already know what to do. Wear him out, then take him out, but have a care, he¡¯s smart enough to feign fatigue. He¡¯ll know how you¡¯ve fallen back against your other opponents, so¡­ maybe feign your first proper attack. Let him come again and¡­¡± I waved him off. ¡°Thanks for the extra info. I need to be alone now, I reckon.¡± He nodded his big ass head and left the room. I was glad of the peace, but his words had sparked some fresh ideas that I wanted to think through. These were the waters I swam in after all, and having an opponent who knew what to expect was one of the greatest weapons you could have. Especially if you were an unpredictable asshole. I went through a few scenarios, imagining fighting the Captain for reference on size and movement. And when I was finally called out to the arena, I had to work hard not to grin my widest grin at what I had finally come up with. The boos rang out like an orchestra of assholes. Little did they know, all that did was fuel my desire to disappoint them all. I held my dagger and buckler awkwardly in my left hand so that I could offer them all the wanker sign. Much to my irritation, they all laughed. Either the gesture meant something else here, or word had gotten out that my two little birdies had flown off. As I considered my options, up to and absolutely not excluding pulling a moony at them, I realized one portion of the crowd hadn¡¯t booed and they weren¡¯t laughing either. Instead, they kept up a steady chorus of cheers. It was weird for me, but I embraced it, and waved to them, displaying my disfigured hand in full. They went wild. It had been a long time since I¡¯d had fans, but these fuckers were lapping me up, and I was enjoying it more than I expected. I hoped it¡¯d last. I doubted it would. Typical that the presenter would choose that moment to bark out our welcome to drown them out with his projected voice. ¡°WELCOME TO THE FIFTH BOUT OF THE LAST 64. EARL HENSHAW OF THE VELKYN ARENA POOL FIGHTERS! VS WARKAL! THE SCOURGE OF THE SALORIAN.¡± I zoned out the crowd and took in my opponent. Big bastard. He was covered in gray plate armor, but what skin I could see was the color and sheen of crude oil alive with the throbbing of purple veins just under the surface. He was a little more muscular than Estwin, which I didn¡¯t expect, and he swung his heavy maul around like it was made of Styrofoam, yellow and red eyes never leaving me. For a heartbeat, the world went silent¡­ Then the announcer screamed the command. ¡°FIGHT!¡± Warkal came fast. Charging like a bull with a hot iron up its arse. I could see it in his rapidly approaching eyes. He didn¡¯t want me to play my games. He wanted to get the fight over and done with in the first few seconds. It was too easy to put a look of panic on my face as I retreated as fast as I could. Anthony Hopkins would have been proud of my acting as I fell to the floor. The big bastard loomed over me, victory in his eyes as he swung the huge, pointed hammer head in a wicked arc. It came whipping over his head to crush me into mush. I timed my buckler deflection and right leg extension to perfection. Yes, my arm broke, but you know what they say. No pain, no gain. The maul smashed into the ground next to my head. Exactly where I expected it to land. Something else that was exactly where I thought they would be were Salorian nuts. And my right foot smashed into those around the same time. He fought the inevitable fall that a good shot in the nuts brought, managing to get a knee down, but that only put his neck in the perfect position for my dagger. I buried it deep behind his trachea, then ripped it toward me. I would have done a lot more damage, but the fucker fell on me pinning me to the ground as blood gushed into my face from his new throat opening. By the time I managed to lever him off me, I¡¯d already been declared the winner. Arena Guards were already around me, plus the mystery mage standing a few feet further back. I didn¡¯t feel any touch on my mind, and I definitely still wanted to stab the Salorian, but it was the raucous noise coming from one corner of the arena that ended up pulling my attention away. My fans were going ape shit. Dropping the knife, I raised my good arm and waved again. They went up a notch, and I was l led away grinning like a bloody Cheshire cat. Estwin was waiting for me in the antechamber. He was smiling too. ¡°Seems you used my advice slightly differently than I¡¯d intended.¡± ¡°Looks like it,¡± I said, heading past him to the water fountain to wash my bloody mouth out. ¡°He wanted to finish it quickly, and you lulled him in to thinking you were going to play the same game. But you went for it. Sacrificed your arm and got the win in seconds. Crazy, reckless, and perfect. You¡¯re a monster, Earl, but it¡¯s an honor to watch how you work these things out.¡± ¡°Monster, huh?¡± was all I managed to reply.