《Storms Of Ataraxy - [Progression, LitRPG]》


 Chapter 1: The Integration

    Tutorial: Day 0


    It started off like any other day, ripped violently from a vivid dream, or nightmare depending on who you asked, around the eye-crusting hours of 10 am. Normally It¡¯d be earlier in the morning, but I loathed the cold. Every winter in Arizona was frozen enough to trigger my lizard ancestry that I¡¯m half-joking half-serious my family holds dormant. Yours truly being the unfortunate soul the gene activated in. Not to mention I enjoy my dreams now, even if I often awoke in a cold sweat even still. Relatively a new development, 12 months in the making now, as most of life was spent dreading my nightly terror sessions. Never had I shied away from sleep, as it was a natural necessity, but I had hated it all the same up until recently, for reasons I don¡¯t particularly feel like ruminating so early.


    Arising from my congregation of thick, now sweat-soaked blankets and pillows, I began my routine. I quite enjoyed waking up, getting some balance training in, a few crunches, and the occasional hit of my electri-, ah, you know, the Penjamin. G Pen. Weed. I smoked weed, like¡­a lot. Don¡¯t get me wrong, society often perceived me as functional at the very least, and I partook far less than in my younger years. Still more than the assumed average functioning 26 year old male consumed. At this point, it served as a relic of times far more trivial and¡­well¡­miserable. make no mistake, the highs felt just as good as the first time when I was but a preteen, getting in on my friend¡¯s older brother¡¯s stash. It had a way of keeping me ¡®centered¡¯, if you will, as I had my father¡¯s temper. A nasty one at that, but one I spent a lot of time meditating on to better get a grasp over.


    Part of the reason my night terrors became fantasies and anger turned a means for management had been hugely in part to my training, which now a year has passed since I had begun. It wasn¡¯t some anime, training day and night thing, at least not in just one skill, but it certainly felt that way. The first 25 years of life had flown by as fleeting as silence in a crowded room, yet the last 12 months I felt, well, old. Like time just slowed all the way to a screeching halt. I kind of feared it at first, and wondered if life would become an inescapable vacuum that dragged for what felt like a millennia before my inevitable dirt nap, but I learned to yearn for more hours in the day short after.


    Frankly, between the gym, sparring, shadow sparring, conditioning, honing my stock portfolio, working a regular ass job, and trying to be a good son/nephew/cousin/friend, shit was becoming increasingly difficult to balance. I try to dismiss it as a byproduct of holidays invoking nostalgic memories of times I was more relevant in their lives, but that typically fails to pacify nothing more than my words. No one told me part of getting your shit together was the demystification of most social excuses to forcefully bond. Not that I minded, I enjoyed my time with most of them, but I couldn¡¯t help but wonder at what the opportunity cost was running me.


    Greed, Tom, you¡¯re letting the greed talk.


    My closest-thing-to-lifelong friend and current trainer, Korbin, had been a big if not key factor in my current progress. At least the progress I was most proud of, and an unfortunate byproduct of his assistance was his annoying fucking voice ringing through my head intermittently. What¡¯s worse, it was often right, but I would¡¯ve gotten there you know? I must not have mentioned mental illness ran in my family, but I¡¯m approximately 87.945% certain the OCD skipped me.


    Joking, but no, I did dodge that very familial bullet.


    After my morning routine, I headed to the living room to get a little snack in before the gym. Korbin was already out and about tending to his lady, Kaitlyn, and their newborn daughter, Anna. It was kind of crazy, seeing this 12 year old kid I met in middle school, who was honestly the human incarnation of ADHD growing up thinking back on it, becoming one of the better fathers I¡¯ve seen in my marginally short life. At least the best adjusted thus far, but it shouldn¡¯t have come to a surprise. After you watch a dude leap off enough perfectly good shit for the hell of it, things they do stop surprising you.


    ¡°Look Anna! The House-Cat has appeared!¡± Korbin exclaimed excitedly, while Anna immediately flipped her head and stared intently. It was odd, babies in general seemed to always vibe with me, but for some reason Anna was just enamored. It wasn¡¯t favoritism either, it was like pure curiosity and bewilderment encompassed her mind the way she¡¯d stare as I did my thing. She¡¯d even watch me and Korbin spar, and often try to replicate our movements.


    Did I mention she¡¯s 7 months old? Kid¡¯s crazy strong, and had been on her feet already for a while now, though I¡¯m bad at keeping track of dates and all that. Anyways, I did what I always did, and frantically waved with a big smile, giving the typical long drawn, high pitched, ¡°Hi little one¡± I always gave. It never failed to get a giggle out of them, and frankly that¡¯s where my uncle/House-Cat duties start and end until she¡¯s old enough to have opinions and whatnot. Hoping she won¡¯t need mine, but I¡¯d hate to be blatantly despondent to my buddy¡¯s kin, regardless of my comfort about it. It¡¯s not how I¡¯d want him to treat mine, if I have one that is.


    I was fresh off a 4 year relationship nearing marriage like a cargo plane loaded with an unstable nuclear reactor barreling into a fucking hospital, but luckily that ended before things got too permanent. Needless to say, having children wasn¡¯t on the top of my to-do list anytime soon, but I learned to plan ahead the past year.


    ¡°Say ¡®no no it¡¯s cool do your thing House-Ca¡­¡¯HYAH!¡± My ruminations on mutual mentorship responsibilities between friends were abruptly interrupted by the sensation of a tiny baby foot bouncing from my chest. It was like someone brushed by while holding an empty paper towel roll so, naturally, I crumbled to the floor writhing in pain. Feigned, of course, but how could I discourage a well placed body kick from the little one like that? We encourage good habits around here.


    After Anna got her fill of laughter from basking in her triumphant victory in the battle for supremacy with the House-Cat, she got bored and started doing the ¡°drinking from a bottle¡± face, indicating she¡¯s over it. I got up and resumed making my snack. Little Peanut Butter and Honey had me like Winnie the fucking Pooh, and it was actually really good for you, something most all of my diet shared but, couldn¡¯t compare in sheer elation upon biting into.


    God, I miss those sandwiches.


    ¡°You work today?¡± Korbin asked. I knew what the next question was gonna be if I said no, ¡°Wanna spar?¡± Of course I did, so I skipped the formalities.


    ¡°I¡¯m down to spar today, lemme get chest and triceps in first. Last day before my rest days.¡± I said, in a matter of fact tone.


    ¡°Pussy, okay sounds good.¡± Korbin fired back, only to decrescendo in both tone and seriousness. It¡¯s just how we communicated, you skip the pleasantries after 14 years of knowing each other, and spending most of your recent time trying to kill each other for practice.


    I turned to take my first bite into my daily treat, sort of taking in how happy I had suddenly become over the span of such a short time relatively, and had well and truly put my broken ass living situation growing up, my shit show relationships, my lack of discipline, direction, focus, the years I ran around trying to ignore my own yearning for happiness out of some misguided sense of martyrdom for¡­whom honestly to this day I couldn¡¯t tell you, all behind me.


    Another truly appreciated taste of the freedom I¡¯d been fighting to earn it felt like since adolescence. Even if I merely paid rent for a room for now, I had more than tripled my total income in 6 months, and saved more than ever before. One more savory glimpse into my desired path manifesting before me in real-time, one decedent morsel of my pursuit of happiness drawing closer than ever to its destination.


    And then, the world went white.


    Tutorial: introduction


    What the fuck. What the fuck. Did I just fucking die? No goddamn wa-I mean, not goddamn or, f-fuck. What is this?


    Truly spiraling in every sense, I felt myself spinning on my feet, but on what I couldn¡¯t tell you, as I could only see myself. Everything else was just¡­nothing. Whiteness. It was like I was in the backdrop for a certain morally questionable R&B singers music video or something, only they used stadium lights. It was to the point I questioned truly if I were in heaven, and if so, fucking how?! I transitioned to Taoism essentially right before¡­dying?


    I don¡¯t feel dead.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I turned around once more, as I felt something shift, only to jolt back into my fighter stance upon finding a¡­figure. Definitely looked like it was human, at least human shaped. It didn¡¯t have much of any distinguishing features though, outside of a snazzy suit and tie. It stood in front of a slightly grey platform in the shape of an office building, along with a black table and two black chairs before them. They apparently just appeared there, it was so damn bright yet, they suddenly occupied that space here. Wherever here is, I thought.


    ¡°Hello, Tom. Welcome to your introduction to the multiverse. I will be your guide in selecting your class, along with providing l answers to any questions and concerns you may have. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re quite uncertain as to why you¡¯re here, so I will go ahead and tell you now that your world has just been approved for multiversal integration, as deemed by the system, and is currently being terraformed to better accommodate for your safe and sufficient interpolation into the multiverse.¡±


    Fucking, what? What the hell is this guy yapping about? I didn¡¯t realize when you died you went to a comic universe but, I guess that¡¯s what we¡¯re doing.


    My eyes relaxed as my response subdued my frustration.


    ¡°How did I go?¡± I said.


    ¡°Error, please rephrase your question.¡±


    ¡°How did I die?¡± The thing didn¡¯t have a face, but the tilt said it all, as it smugly retorted, ¡°You are not dead, human. If anything, this is your world¡¯s opportunity to live to a degree you may not deem possible given your species current lifespan and capabilities.¡±


    That kind¡¯ve stunned me. I don¡¯t know why, but death felt okay. I mean I hadn¡¯t done what I wanted to, but one had to accept death to enjoy their life, for to dread the end of the destination is to meander the journey, but this was different.


    ¡°So, s-so you¡¯re telling me, you brought me here? And your intent is to terraform my planet, and then what?¡± I could feel a hint of rage building. I didn¡¯t like the intrusion quite frankly, we were doing just fine.


    ¡°You will pick your starting class, weapon of choice, 1 free point to give to your stats, and 1 class skill unlock of your choosing. Then, you shall be placed within your respective tutorial, where you will acclimate to how the multiverse really works, at least to your best abilities, until your world is fully prepared for integration.¡±


    Starting class. Points, skills, this is starting to sound familiar.


    ¡°What exactly is my ¡®class¡¯¡±?


    ¡°A class is what type of fighter you will become. Power is essential in the universe for ensuring your survival as much as knowledge. You will get 4 choices, each with subclass options to better suit your preferences. The 5 main classes are as follows; Warrior, Rogue, Ranger, Mage, and Healer. To better decide your class, the system has integrated your original physical, mental, and spiritual attributes, and translated them to your starting level all newly integrated humans begin at; H ranked level 1 Human, and level 1 in your class. You may review your stats now.¡±


    Just as they stopped info dumping on me, a big display appeared, showing¡­my stats?


    Name: Tom Murphy


    Race: [Human(H) - level 1]


    Class: None


    Profession: None


    Strength: 12


    Agility: 16


    Endurance: 13


    Perception: 10


    Vitality: 8


    Toughness: 12


    Intelligence: 8


    Wisdom: 14


    Willpower: 8


    Skills: None


    Titles: None


    Ain¡¯t no way. I¡¯m in a fucking video game?


    Now I felt certain I died, and God is so, so good. My fantasies of being a decorated loot goblin in first person manifested to the utmost degree. However, they seemed adamant that I wasn¡¯t dead, which didn¡¯t seem very Godly, at least not the kind I figured, and a hint of concern creeped in.


    ¡°What exactly do these stats dictate?¡±


    ¡°Well strength determi-¡°


    ¡°I get the first 3, it¡¯s after where the lines get blurred per game, and it seems to me you people live by similar logic as shit for gamers to blow time honing hand-eye coordination.¡±


    Damn, that might¡¯ve been a bit too confrontational. Not sure if I wanna piss this thing off yet.


    It went on to explain in far too much detail than I¡¯d like, so I simplified. Perception is tricky, as it not only dictates how well you see (obviously) or how far, but how quickly, and it apparently translates into almost every skill during the learning section. It emphasized ¡°almost¡± very diligently, as some later stats really don¡¯t interpolate, but can. Fucking cryptic, even with all those fluffy words.


    Vitality kind of was a given, total health points, but I needed confirmation because what the actual fuck. Eight whole points? I know I¡¯m technically underweight, 6¡¯2 and 153 lbs and all, but it¡¯s a cut ass 153 goddamnit. I suppose I couldn¡¯t be too upset, as I guess 8 was the average stat per human integrated from our planet, which it refused to call Earth.


    ¡°Planet #147 of the 29th Universe.¡±


    This somehow felt more pompous, and I didn¡¯t even bother to question how many planets there are, considering #147 didn¡¯t sound right.


    Toughness was your ability to take damage and negate its effects, and my conditioning most every day probably contributed to the above average level it started at. Not the ¡®run 8 miles a day¡¯ conditioning, more the ¡®kicking shit with your shins and punching rocks¡¯ sort. Rather a masochistic evolutionary trait for our bones to grow back stronger and larger only after making micro fractures on them if you asked me. Still, score one for scheduled pain, and 11 more for estimated suffering.


    Intelligence bummed me out. According to no-face, it was your ability with magic in purity, meaning damage output and what kind¡¯ve spells you can cast and such. My dreams of throwing lightning from my fingers and hurling space stations had never been closer, so I knew I had some hard training ahead of me, whatever that might entail.


    Wisdom was interesting, as it was like Perception, in that it can sprinkle into one¡¯s entire path and growth. It was intuition, to put it bluntly, but for sort of everything. This was also one where perception both did and didn¡¯t overlap, depending who you ask I guess. Either way, I was glad my recent infatuation for bettering my 3 pillars of health (mind, body, and spirit) had seemed to pay off when I didn¡¯t know it mattered, if it did. It was an odd journey at the beginning filled with scary silence and a lot of discussions with myself, but I suppose so will this one be. Hopefully, I get to meditate just as much.


    Willpower was another interesting stat, one I didn¡¯t think functioned how it did. I assumed it would be some sort¡¯ve secondary stat to boost for a class, like maybe a pure combative class used willpower to up its potency without being a strength build. Like cunning, or something.


    Turns out, it¡¯s a bit more esoteric, as those who can dominate in the willpower department tended to achieve Godhood at a far higher success rate, but was also rarely one¡¯s strongest stat to start. Needless to say finding out you can become a fucking God was enough for me to ponder, so my questions sort¡¯ve ended there with that one. I figured I¡¯d find out well enough a thing or two about Willpower soon.


    My balance stumbled with a jerk, finding myself seated in the chair, sitting neatly at the table. I didn¡¯t perform the act of sitting, nor did I scoot in, yet lo and behold. As I leaned my elbows on the questionable surface, I noticed a sensation I hadn¡¯t felt before. I couldn¡¯t explain it, it was as if something was¡­alive in the table. I placed my hand to the chair and noticed the same energy, it was as if millions and millions of tubes were moving, something, throughout this detail-less furniture.


    It felt good.


    ¡°Are you alright, Tom?¡± The figure asked, in an endearing manner while touching my hand to get my attention. I pulled back and was about to snap at the creature, but it had done me no wrong, even if it had kidnapped me essentially. I refrained, relaxed, and lied.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah I¡¯m alright, just trying to digest all of this.¡±


    With a tinge of curiosity, I thought to bring back my stat sheet after closing it to talk to the thing. I don¡¯t know why, it¡¯s not like we can make eye contact. As I wished to see it, it appeared. I noticed at the bottom a section labeled ¡°Titles¡± and knew any stone left unturned right now might not be in my best interest.


    ¡°What exactly are titles? Is the multiverse some sort of nobility based society? Like, is there a King of Earth now or?¡± I wasn¡¯t kidding, this fucker just gave me stats, and I could feel the difference in the world already. Nothing¡¯s off the table right now. I refuse to die to some ugly, half-baked humanoids smug lack of voluntary knowledge pertinent to my life.


    He already ruined my snack.


    ¡°It depends, truly it¡¯s outside your purview for the foreseeable future, but yes, to a degree. At least there will be. All factions have some formal form of hierarchy, but they¡¯re mostly composed of the strongest to weakest, depending on what they deemed as ¡®strength¡¯¡±.


    This answer couldn¡¯t piss me off more. He essentially said, ¡®yes, kind of, accept not at all sometimes, but there¡¯s order.¡¯


    No shit, I could¡¯ve surmised that.


    Although the idea of factions running the multiverse did have its fair share of implications, they were some that once again this shithead refrained from emphasizing. Real rat-like, and I¡¯m not a fan.


    I sighed in defeat. Sensing this anger would do me no good here, I knew I needed to just get over myself for a second. Just for one.


    ¡°Alright, so then what should I be worried about right now uh, mister..?¡±


    I hadn¡¯t a clue what to call this fucking thing.


    ¡°Your guide. I¡¯m your guide, Tom.¡± It responded, smiling but, in an eerily firm tone.


    ¡°Ok, My ¡®guy-de¡¯, what¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°Now that you¡¯ve seen your stats and understand how they work, it¡¯s time to select your class.¡±

 Chapter: 2 Day 0 - Class Selection

    As he said ¡°class¡± and gestured his hand to me, a new prompt flashed in front of me. It was like I had a virtual reality headset inside my head or something, but far more advanced. In front of me were the 5 class options; Warrior, Rogue, Ranger, Mage, and Healer.


    ¡°Why is healer not a subclass of Mage?¡±


    I figured they fell into the same ballpark, I mean healing had to be magic based in some way or another. Who the hells doing med-evac and field surgery, when presumably there¡¯s magic? We can heal like that, no?


    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of ways one can heal. The basic, most fundamental being through simple mana transfer which, yes, is indeed magic. However, healing goes far beyond one¡¯s ability to cast a fireball, or create icy structures. Many classes can heal without need of mana pools, as their pools for energy in those classes vary from the average classes stats set, much like many specialized classes do. Some creatures simply use their vitality to perform healing. Others, endurance. It¡¯s simply too nuanced to summarize as ¡°magic¡±.


    Well, fuck me I guess.


    It made sense, I just sort¡¯ve hoped I had these things better pinned from jump, as any advantage would lead to success. Call it pride, I just want to be at least as happy as I began, before no-face brought me here.


    My selection process began by immediately writing off all options I figured were unrealistic, healer being the first. Frankly, I¡¯ve never been the support role type, and while I don¡¯t mind helping, I prefer to do so through affirmative means rather than supplementing the solution providers. Again, call it pride, but I simply enjoyed the fray far more than supporting someone who probably didn¡¯t, sue me.


    I also took Mage off the table. Not because I hated the idea, my stats did. It would be unwise to start out leaning heavily into my weakness as a foundation, especially if this will be a build that I derive my fighting style from in this new¡­reality? I don¡¯t know, I half-hoped maybe I got a bad batch when I bought more pods for my weed pen, and this would all end soon enough.


    Refocusing in fear I¡¯m not high as balls right now, I got back to removing the least contentious classes. Ranger was a no-go too, another one where I harbored no resentment but simply didn¡¯t have the experience to jump into it whole-heartedly. In truth, my combat experience was up close and personal, and while I fired guns at ranges and got my certifications, I doubted we were going to be given guns with unlimited ammo if classes like ¡°Rogue¡± and ¡°Warrior¡± exist, because how the fuck would they if those were readily available from jump?


    This brought me to my half difficult decision; Rogue, or Warrior.


    I didn¡¯t like the glass cannon idea that much, but I knew I had been inherently making one before this anyways. My training was simple, my spirit I found aligned heavily with water based concepts, or at least used water as a point of reference, and my fighting style reflected that. Finding cracks, countering, even my movements were to replicate that of waves, always in motion, always crashing. It was a part of me, and in doing so I conditioned well enough, but conditioning itself meant delayed weight gain.


    Sure, slap on muscle, some extra bone density, but bottom line is you¡¯re burning calories at a high rate, and you need to heal bones. I wondered how much that was to factor now, with stats and all, but for some reason found it vain to ask.


    High strength usually meant warrior, but so did toughness and vitality. Both of these I wanted to excel in, and only one was to my liking to start. Still, leaning into two weaknesses, being strength and vitality, to compensate for natural boons in stats felt wasteful. Torn, I consulted with no-face.


    ¡°Hey buddy, are Rogues always weak bodies but high damage? Is there no middling?¡±


    It stopped for a moment, but it didn¡¯t look like pondering. It was more a freeze, like he was¡­processing.


    It, it was processing, Tom.


    ¡°Rogues are special, in that their spectrum of subclasses are in close contention with mage classes in range of diversity, and greatly outweighs all but Warriors in total awakened species preference. Your path, of course, can evolve to something almost completely unrelated to your traditional abilities, but will always have the foundations you set today at its roots.¡±


    Holy shit, a concise answer out of it.


    Alright, that settled it, Rogue it was.


    I figured if I can bend a class to what I was supposed to be anyways, might as well go with the most malleable, and No-Face merely reaffirmed my suspicions. I focused my intent on the Rogue selection, and to my satisfaction, it flashed a new prompt:


    CONGRATULATIONS!


    YOU¡¯VE ACHIEVED CLASS: {Rogue - level 1}


    I checked my status sheet, and sure enough, I had a little class about myself now.


    Name: Tom Murphy


    Race: [Human(H) - level 1]


    Class: {Rogue - level 1}


    Profession: None


    Strength: 12


    Agility: 16


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Endurance: 13


    Perception: 10


    Vitality: 8


    Toughness: 12


    Wisdom: 14


    Willpower: 8


    Skills: None


    Titles: None


    Upon review, I realized my folly of not asking about professions, and went to ask about them until the formation of vowels in my mouth was cut off.


    ¡°Excellent choice, Tom! Now, please select a skill to start.¡±


    Before I can change the topic to the professions, a new prompt popped up, one far, far more jam packed with option after option. It was a plethora of skills, all with descriptions, some similar, but all slightly different. Back Slash, Back Stab, Splitting Stab, Flanking Strike, Shadow Strike, all examples. None of which I had much interest in, sneaking around so much was sort of ratty in my opinion. I reserved rat-like behavior for absolute necessity, as that¡¯s the only way those rodents can properly function without human care.


    I hate rats.


    Anyways, my mind was already pounding in hunger, now it had come from mental exhaustion trying to meticulously read every single skill description. It was mind numbing, until one caught my eye.


    Duel Swordsman (uncommon) - allows the user the knowledge and physical dexterity to contort two short swords with absolute grace without the physical drawbacks of an extra sword in hand. +2 agility, +3 endurance.


    Holy shit, an uncommon passive skill? Most games didn¡¯t allow this sort of thing, I must have broken some barrier of entry to this skill with my experience in fighting in general, and I began to understand how muscle freaks gravitated to Warrior classes. Some guys from my gym probably have like a 22 baseline strength too, fucking gear-heads.


    I didn¡¯t hate them, I hate how they treated themselves. They were worth more than cheating for petty gains, to me they meant nothing if not earned. Also 153 lbs, and conscious about it enough to mention the extra 3, so who am I?


    Regardless, this was by far the most OP stat I had come across, and it was naturally my choice, as I had good experience in duel swords. I had to confirm my suspicions however, and asked my Guy-d.


    ¡°Why am I offered an uncommon skill? Isn¡¯t it rather early for something like that?¡±


    It looked confused almost, as it tilted its head rather unnaturally. After a pause, it snapped back straight and replied,¡± it would appear your stats qualify for said rarity, rejoice in your favorable circumstance, Tom!¡±


    Perfect. I hadn¡¯t seen any bo staff options yet, which was my preference but I guess I¡¯ll have to find one of my own someday.


    I¡¯ll stow away my love for the simplest of stick for now, at least until I can make it practical.


    Afterwards, I was to allocate my free skill point. Why I couldn¡¯t save it, again, cause fuck me I guess.


    With agility and endurance being so high now, I figured I wouldn¡¯t want to be so lopsided, even if one point made a minor difference, and tossed it into wisdom.


    What? I didn¡¯t say I¡¯d put it into a sheer weakness. Those I can beat out of myself in time. I was sure of it.


    ¡°Exceptional work, Tom! Now that you¡¯ve selected your class and allocated your points, it¡¯s time to select your weapons.¡±


    Right now?¡­why?


    Day 0: Special Treatment


    I pondered the haste in weapon selection, because hey, I just got here. Let¡¯s have a conversation before I¡¯m sent into the damn wild or, wherever the fuck this wished-it-were-ugly thing sent me?


    No-Face was beginning to irritate me, to say the least, but I knew deep down I was powerless to his bullshit. After all, he just apparently spawned this big ass glass-looking table, with hundreds of different melee weapons sprawled across it.


    It was insane, katars, scythes, rapiers, clubs, maces, sickles, hammers, daggers, spears, I half expected to see a fucking shovel option it was so vast. I grazed over the selections carefully, knowing damn well what picking a weapon in a form you¡¯re familiar with entailed.


    I had to feel it, I had to know this was my extension, this will represent my hand, my intent, my will I suppose. Too bad it¡¯s like your lowest stat. I swear, my inner monologue can be a real dick to even me.


    As I meandered about, I saw a pair of very thick, shorter sized blades.


    ¡°What are these called?¡±


    ¡°Tanto, those are relics of your species¡¯ Japanese cultural weaponry. Very intimidating looking choice indeed Mr. Murphy.¡±


    Saying my last name somehow made things more real, even though I was holding very tangible weapons in a very real empty space after selecting very real skills t-¡­ahh, can¡¯t spiral right now. These aren¡¯t it. The hilts were far too¡­boxy. It was like a big letter cutter, it didn¡¯t seem like I¡¯d enjoy the feel of them much but, the blades themselves looked formidable. The 12 inch length however was a bit under what I was looking for.


    ¡°No thanks, I¡¯m still browsing but, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    I continued my search , and came across a weapon I recognized. The Wakizashi. They too, were of Japanese lineage, it was a backup blade for the Samurai in feudal Japan. It was shorter than a katana, but much longer than your typical knife, these being around 20-24 inches off the eye test.


    They also maintained the thin bladed characteristics, while fostering a slight curve, like its katana counterpart. I always wanted to get my hands on them, as in my opinion they¡¯re a great size for the kind¡¯ve style I¡¯d wished to have with swords and, yes, I did in fact consider this often. I had a weird 12 months if you asked many, but to me they were a well of knowledge that invoked much, much joy.


    ¡°This, I¡¯ll take 2 of this.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, you misunderstand, human. This is part of a set with that katana there.¡± He gestured to the long sword version, and I dismissed his hand with a wave.


    ¡°No no, you misunderstand. I¡¯m aware what set it comes in, I wish to have two of these.¡±


    He appeared puzzled, as if my request hadn¡¯t been made to him before, and as he stared once more into nothingness, I began feeling unnerved.


    Had I pissed it off? Was I about to just die right now? Not even fight, just cease to exist? This thing¡¯s clearly strong, and my goddamn pride refuses to treat it with any form of respect. I should just chill out, or maybe grab one of these things and lunge.


    Before I could overreact, it spoke as if it hadn¡¯t broken stride from our conversation.


    ¡°Certainly! An odd request, but not one the system deems unreasonable!¡±


    And with that, a second Wakizashi appeared on the table, and as my hand met its hilt, a sense of glorious victory for my hubris washed away any looming regrets.


    One of the few I¡¯d get to relish in for quite some time.


    The armor section was far more bland, filled with differing sizes of armor in weird pelts. Naturally, I went for light armor, as I intended on maintaining my quickness advantage as much as possible. Besides, my fighting style meant hitting hard and way before you can get hit with anything properly anyways, so why bother with the extra weight? In truth, it was so light I almost regretted my decision immediately, but it was already talking again.


    ¡°Now that you have your weapons and stats in order, we¡¯ll now be placing you through a trial tournament with humans similar in stats as yourself. This is a semi-exclusive circumstance, as only a portion among your population will take part in this tournament, while the rest are sent to their respective Collective Lodge, where they¡¯ll await their group members return before the tutorial can begin. Do note, you cannot truly die in this tournament. This is entirely for the myriad of potential patrons to peruse through your planet''s talent, in search of suitable prospects.¡±


    Once again, I took a moment to digest all that was said before composing internally and responding far calmer than I initially intended to.


    ¡°Okay, so I¡¯m essentially headed to¡­tryouts?¡± The thought that I¡¯m already some performance monkey for a greater power was beginning to dig deep into my chest out of sheer resentment to the idea.


    Who the fuck were they? Gods, who held no power over me and didn¡¯t ever bother to make themselves apparent?


    Why should I care?


    Sure they¡¯re probably strong, real, real strong, but why wouldn¡¯t I be given enough time? They just had time against me I assumed, and I couldn¡¯t wait to make up the difference. A real and true God able to walk among us willingly would¡¯ve done us some good before this¡­thing, and I¡¯d rather it me than some asshole achieve it first from earth. Don¡¯t feel like bending any knee to some overpowered doofus with an ego issue.


    ¡°In a way, yes, I suppose it is ¡®tryouts¡¯ as you so crudely put. More than this, it¡¯s an opportunity to impress the multiverse¡¯s finest, most powerful entities, as any integration breeds opportunity for all in the multiverse. Who knows? You may gain quite the mentor, maybe even master out of this. Shoot, if you¡¯re really lucky, you¡¯ll be selected as a Chosen, the top disciple and assumed progeny of their patron. With that, comes plenty of power¡±


    Now this fucking empty printer paper was speaking my language.


    With that gem of knowledge, I resolved myself to put the utmost effort into this tournament, as the sooner I¡¯m able to handle things there and feign loyalty to some self righteous old geezer, the better off I¡¯ll be when I get home. Maybe I can link with Korbin, or shit, my family. I hadn¡¯t even considered them, the vast majority are probably running about like a chicken with its head chopped off right now. I can only pray to whatever patron I can impress they¡¯ll make it out alright, or better yet, make our ways together before the tutorial even starts. Either way, I have to start off strong.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°See you soon, Tom.¡±

 Chapter: 3 Day 0 - Placement Tournament

    Fuck, I forgot about the fucking Profession again.


    I cursed myself, and damn near slammed my Wakizashi¡¯s down in frustration, had there not been a massive group of humans everywhere around me. Immediately, my anger faded, replaced with bewilderment at the scene I was dropped into.


    It was big, as in an endlessly big structure. I had no idea how much space this massive outdoor battle arena occupied, it appeared infinite. The sky was filled with stars and constellations I¡¯d never seen, and I swore they were moving, but not in an orbiting way, but with intent. All around what seemed like thousands of us, probably more, was the strangest biome I¡¯d ever seen. It¡¯s like every few hundred yards, it changed drastically. One fighting area was surrounded by plant life I¡¯d never seen before.


    Flowers with teeth and appendages, trees with faces screeching an ungodly noise radiating a green mist from their multi-colored bark, insects the size of apples with all kinds of fluorescent colors replicating the plant life it apparently inhabited. They even appeared to nestle together in lines, like fans watching a football game. Even weird humanoid looking¡­bushes? It was hard to explain, but the broccoli people seemed enthralled with the match already underway. It confused me, how I was so late to the party here. It seemed to me people have been waiting for a while to do¡­something, as when I arrived most faces look restless.


    Not far from this battleground stood another, completely engulfed in magma and molten rock all around. Giant slugs could be seen climbing a volcano that was absurdly out of place in this climate. The fire slugs were shooting molten lava rocks from I assumed their ass, and consumed my attention all the way until the short guy getting his head lopped off by the blonde woman he was fighting took precedence. She had to be fast, because I never saw her damn arm move. Then again, they¡¯re about a mile out, and while my perception is already admittedly far keener now that these stats changed how my eyes seemed to feel and function, I couldn¡¯t make out more than hair color and sex based on their shapes.


    I started shuffling through the crowd, trying to make my way further down a path, one of many, to get a view on some more fights in different arenas. Maybe they have one that was water themed.


    How silly, of course they did, I¡¯m sure that affinity is plenty popular.


    While freeing myself from the crowd of, frankly dead-faced folks, I internalized my disapproval for their clambering about how unfair this whole thing was. Or the occasional ¡®this isn¡¯t real, this isn¡¯t real.¡¯


    Pussies.


    I dismissed my judgement as quickly as it arose, because honestly, who the fuck was I? What normal human being enjoyed getting fucked up for the sake of getting better at fucking other people up? Honestly, plenty, but to expect that feeling here was unfair. People were entitled to live however they saw fit. That may be different now, but it can¡¯t be because of me.


    I was freed of the group, but before I could get a move on towards the fiery death pit to talk to its newest victor currently strolling her way out of the arena after teleporting right outside of it, a hologram of a woman jumped in front of me.


    Hello, welcome to the Proving Grounds. Here, you will be fighting your peers from your plan-


    I peered around it just in time to see her go at the furthest depths my perception allowed me to see clearly. It was weird, I was a bit closer, and could tell her clothes were spotless. She was surrounded by all that fire, in the literal heat of battle, and not a scratch on. Part of me wondered if I¡¯d be single right now if we¡¯d met before all this cause, damn.


    My focus reshifted to the hologram midway through her rambling.


    -member there¡®s no room for error, and any fatal blow will result in an immediate loss and disqualification from the tournament. Fight well, human, the multiverse is watching!


    The hologram was especially chipper with that last line, but I had no clue what she meant by that.


    ¡®The multiverse is watching¡¯?


    Maybe I should¡¯ve listened, but, frankly I couldn¡¯t find any button or laser I passed over to trigger this thing. Come to think of it, there weren¡¯t any lenses anywhere either. It was all just a bland marble floor, only to be beautifully berated by the colorful designs that correlated with every arena. It may have been half baked, but whatever being that created this place, they knew what they were doing. A tinge of fear crept into my mind, and I promptly washed it away with logic.


    They made this for us, for you, why waste this effort to just kill you after?


    My fear subsided just in time, as I approached the magma spouting arena, I saw a familiar shape on the battlefield.


    No fucking way.


    Korbin clearly selected medium armor, which made sense considering he was stronger than me by a wide margin, and well¡­faster. The guy trained me, so I know it should be a given he¡¯s better, but holy fuck dude. I know rationality from not, and his speed pissed me off far more than his strength and knowledge.


    Anyways, he had this short sword that resembled that of a Spartans I¡¯d seen in a movie. Crazy good movie, but bad leadership if you ask me. Didn¡¯t even think, just said ¡®hey, YOU, army that outnumbers us 100:1, eat dicks let¡¯s fight¡¯. I don¡¯t know, didn¡¯t feel tactically sound, or sound of mind for that matter, but they were great warriors nonetheless.


    He was faced off with a rather tall and brick-built opponent but, that probably had little effect on Korbin. He was barely sub 6-foot, but a lot of ego pricks over 6-foot like to fight. I, being among that troop, and he had rather recent practice with a taller opponent.


    Figuring I arrived early based on both of them looking in decent shape. The other guy had long, black hair, and a well kept 5 o¡¯clock shadow, if that makes sense. It was like intentional mediocrity.


    Half cocked kempt, yeah, that¡¯s it.


    Anyways, so the idiot had a sword and shield, and he went straight for a shield bash.


    Oh just GIVE him the win.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Korbin handedly side stepped using his lead foot to get around the outside of the charging baboon¡¯s leg, around the shield hand, and slid across the face of the shield before the guy could make direct contact. All the while digging his sword into the man¡¯s rib cage from the back behind the shield hand, apparently twisting the hilt with his wrist and arm to use the guy¡¯s body as an anchor point to swing around to get his back. From there, it was a simple unsheathing from the poor sap¡¯s side and a slice across his jugular, and the man dropped, dying, then disappeared.


    With that, Korbin turned, and was immediately teleported out of the arena, right in front of me.


    ¡°F-fuck?!¡±


    Yeah, I jumped, you have someone teleport 60 yards to you from a stand still and walk away stoic, I dare you.


    Equally taken aback, he readied his sword again before recognizing me.


    ¡°You chose light armor? You fucking idiot.¡±


    ¡°Good to see you too asshat, what¡¯s up with the teleporting and merciless murder?¡±


    Korbin wouldn¡¯t drop it.


    ¡°No, seriously, you¡¯re a dipshit. Why did you pick light armor?¡±


    Oh, oh you¡¯re serious right now?


    ¡±I¡¯m a rogue, I figured this befitted my strengths to optimize movement.¡± I said, confidently. Clearly he assumed me a warrior or el-


    ¡°What¡¯s your strength stat?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­12, why?¡± Korbin slapped his face and looked up at the sky, as if to beg whatever godlike- being running this for patience in this moment. For what, well, he put it bluntly.


    ¡°Mine is 18, Tom. Did you hear the average? You don¡¯t think you couldn¡¯t muster the man power to move medium fucking armo- matter of fact, try this on.¡±


    Korbin frustratedly began removing his many straps, rather swiftly at that.


    ¡°No I get your poi-¡°


    ¡°No no, no you¡¯re gonna. Just give me a sec, take that bullshit off.¡±


    I reluctantly stripped my light armor, and as we exchanged, I got it.


    Fuck, this shit is weightless.


    I mean, fuck dude how could I know? I didn¡¯t get too¡­


    ¡°How they fit Tom?¡±


    ¡°¡­pretty good, weightless even.¡±


    ¡°Mhm, when the weird suit manikin brought out the armor, did you try them on, Tom?¡±


    I shrank, probably visibly but definitely internally.


    No fucking way, again.


    ¡°Yeaaah you didn¡¯t. I bet you checked every SINGLE weapon he sprawled out in front of you too, huh?¡±


    At this point, I waved my white flag four sentences ago, I just realized it now.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah I did.¡±


    ¡°Tsk tsk tsk tsk, well, give me my armor back. I¡¯m not wearing this wet napkin when big rewards are at stake.¡±


    I already began unlatching the straps when I perked up at that last part.


    ¡°A reward? What kind?¡±


    ¡°Dude, did you even fucking listen to the Hologram when you got here?¡±


    Now, this is usually when I admit I was drooling over a blonde with a clear mean streak, but I had held far too many L¡¯s in one sitting for my liking.


    ¡°What exactly do you mean by rewards, Korbin? This is really not the day man just tell me.¡±


    Shot in the dark.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    Fair.


    ¡°Alright, fine, I was checking out one of the fighters. She was bad as hell okay, what do you want from me?!¡±


    ¡°¡­The blonde? That checks out, stop thinking with your dick though, Gods are watching.¡±


    Oh, right. ¡®Monkey show¡¯. That¡¯s why we¡¯re having fun.


    ¡°Yeah, sure, some pompous old fucks are going to bestow a great blessing upon us. Think it out man, let¡¯s just get a feel for where we stand on Earth now, and assert that role accordingly to better ourselves. It¡¯s clearly formulaic now.¡±


    I felt justified, but Korbin felt otherwise.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna stop you there, you have no clue how to level, and I know that cause I know we can¡¯t level here. That¡¯s cheating I guess, but if a God likes you, they¡¯ll give you some shit you can use for YES amount of time. I¡¯m rolling those dice, besides, it¡¯s fun! Enjoy yourself a little.¡±


    Finally, we did agree on this part of it all. I truly was brain dead to what was going on, I just knew the clear path was probably through training to get stronger. Worked before, but I suppose it¡¯s a ¡¯we¡¯ll see¡¯ matter for now.


    ¡°Listen, Tom, I saw a nice little water style battleground down the way, let¡¯s get you penciled in for a fight before that tournament closes up, huh? It¡¯s just down that way.¡± Korbin said, while pointing down the direction I was already headed before his act of blatant slaughter distracted me.


    ¡°Finally, something I like, I¡¯ll see you around. And, good luck man.¡± I reached my hand out for a handshake. Not a business one, we¡¯re not 50.


    ¡°Yeah man, you too. Stay patient, don¡¯t forget your training. Don¡¯t get too excited out there champ.¡± He said, while finishing our handshake. With that, my steps hastened toward my preferred domain for fighting, and I was already way, way too excited.


    Day 0: As Expected


    The first fight had been¡­hilarious. The guy chose a Spear, and while the dude looked strong, standing at a burly 6¡¯6, probably 260 pounds off the eye test, his smug face screamed idiot.


    ¡°Really? This fuckin¡¯ pipsqueak? Ha, round one, what a joke.¡± The bozo chuckled to air while thrusting his open palm towards the sky, and proceeded to just run up and lob his spear at me like a baseball, lifting his lead leg like it was the bottom of the 9th. I really hadn¡¯t had the time to work up some frustration yet, so I sort¡¯ve chuckled at the sight of this burly man trying to get a move on. I water stepped to the side just like, kind of, and it flew right by, probably already missing based on its trajectory.


    Water stepping was no skill, at least not a system one, but one vital to my fighting style. It¡¯s one I¡¯d been crafting before all of this, it was the core move to my striking power, movement, Flow, it was the key that unlocked all my favorite moves. Above all it held a myriad of options with it, and I strived to learn and utilize them all.


    After looking back into the man¡¯s deep brown eyes, I saw fear. Unequivocal, unadulterated, pure regret. I didn¡¯t know how to feel at first, I enjoyed knowing what was to come. Though I hadn¡¯t anticipated he¡¯d know the implications so soon, given how fucking dumb that first move was.


    I simply water stepped to the big idiot at a quicker speed I¡¯d displayed, by a lot, but that says little of the prior. Dude threw fast but not accurately, indicating he¡¯s clearly some meathead who thought they¡¯d win every fight with one power move. This made when I twisted my rear foot to my hips, using my inside hand to literally disarm him, as in take his arm off with a sweeping outward motion, striking in a stabbing fashion with my rear hand Wakizashi that pierced his solar plexus and protruding out his spine a little, feel all the more satisfactory.


    Easy, clean, and he went home quickly, outside of the screaming and spurting blood from his armless shoulder everywhere on me, invoking involuntary dry heaves out of me.


    Other than that, it felt like I was in for a real treat here.


    I was wrong, but that was expected.


    See, I learned quickly never to underestimate an opponent, which was probably why the first guy¡¯s attempt at an attack seemed so extra measly. When entering a state I learned as ¡®Flow¡¯ I noticed things slowed down. This was, again, pre-global kidnapping, and I figured it would carry over. I just had to find it, it was a state of motion that was¡­always hard to put into words before.


    It was more than that now. It felt so vivid, like Flow was more tangible, especially when fights got tougher. Similar to the chair from the white room, but in the air. Or, whatever was around me, as sometimes after meditation, I saw delayed afterimages of blue colors behind my movements.


    Truly, truly wish I brought my weed with me right now.


    By the third fight, folks began feeling qualified for their placement here. This guy, around six foot, probably 250, had chosen a halberd, and I was immediately stressed.


    Shit, if he knows anything about that weapon, I¡¯m hard-countered.


    Duel-wielding swords was great against swords and shields. Most weapon combos honestly. But halberd? They won almost every time. It was too much weight to glance blows off of, and its polearm characteristics made dodging impossible within striking range. A reason why certain warriors of olden times were revered with such respect. I did not want to lose so soon, I wanted to meditate more between rounds while being surrounded by the sheer serenity this biome let out.


    The sounds of crashing water, what looked like mermaids, I think, fish people for sure were just watching in silent curiosity. What¡¯s crazier was, there were many waves crashing all around, but literally ALL around the arena. It hovered in the air, flying around without ever contacting what it appeared to not wish to clash with, but happily rolled over certain overhanging objects like rock formations.


    It felt like I could sense when it drew nearer. Meditation amplified this feeling, it was like being literally connected to some spirit within the water. Or of the water. There was little time to ponder conceptual semantics, as I was faced with my strongest opponent yet, and it showed in his prowess. They clearly knew what they were doing, readying their weapon in a semi bladed stance, not moving until I did.


    Fucker, he did his homework.


    I won the last two fights countering the opponents moves, and with deadly outcomes each time.


    It was my style after all, defense is just aggressive countering, where someone attacked meant somewhere else they left a gap, and water always finds its path. Even if it occasionally has to make one, like with the second fight. Asshole chose sword and shield, then proceeded to hide indefinitely behind his shield.


    I had to bait him to attack first. The first one caught me off guard because, my god, it was awful. It was like his shoulder broke, but he still wanted to fling his sword at me anyways. I simply dodged the first, the second I parried with one Wakizashi above me, and angled it so the hit slid downward from my head, safely away from my shoulder. With these, I had to move my blade with the attack to make sure it missed my shoulder, but it was no trouble surprisingly.


    As I did this, I jammed the second Wakizashi into his neck, invoking a massive initial burst of blood gushing out and filling his throat as he gurgled, grasping the wound rather panicked. From there, it was teleport and meditation time.


    Now, after water-stepping forward at a speed that had proven tried and true to this point, except for this guy to swing at a downward angle way faster than he ought to be able to with that thing, I knew this wasn¡¯t going to be such a smooth path to follow back to my meditation station.

 Chapter: 4 Day 0 - Not Bad

    Fine, you won¡¯t give me my openings, I¡¯ll fucking make them.


    It had been about 40 seconds of fighting, but by now I had this asshole pegged.


    Clearly, he got some skill that made one strike very fast, and he must have some high perception to track some of my movements so well, which meant one conclusion; filthy damage tank.


    The bane of all fair gamers, a broken tank. Sure, they had lower health, but relative to fucking tanks. With this in mind, I knew he¡¯s level 1, so his first move will more than likely be his entire bag right now. The problem was, he got way too damn close every time I closed the gap, regardless of my speed or angle.


    It was by now I¡¯d grown fed up. Call it a short fuse, call it pride, but the guy would not have put up this kind of fight without class skills, halberd be damned. He¡¯s smart, I¡¯ll give him that, but his movements were sloppy. His stance wasn¡¯t, but clearly he was unpracticed in it. That indicated to me his defenses were for show. He too adopted the art of whimsically overpowered counter-attacking, but never learned defense as backup. Of course, this was probably a given. Not because of talent but, why the fuck would he before this?


    Confident in my resolve, I switched my mentality a bit. I knew using my water stance was pertinent, my muscles pulsing with every move tapping into my agility stat with ease while in it, something I meditated on while enjoying my haven of H2O. I also practiced rigorously a new addition to this water stance. Something deadly, quick, and unpredictable; lightning.


    Sure, you might¡¯ve found how I cataloged my styles to be dorky, bordering corny even, but here? It appeared I had the last laugh, being rewarded for my diligent faith in the elements making concepts stickier. After the molly-whopping delivered in the first fight and meditated on my stance, a prompt pinged at the corner of my vision.


    Skill unlocked -> Water Stance (common) - user exerts far less energy while in this fighting stance that revolves entirely on perpetual motion, and receives a +3 in agility, and a 3% boost to perception whenever an attack closes in. Endurance receives a -6% debuff for a time dependent on the duration the skill is active.


    3% was far from shabby for a common skill, but the debuff upon deactivation definitely made the ranking make sense, and +3 agility was the more believable aspect of the skill in my opinion. It was like that pre-global kidnapping too. If in Flow too long however, as soon as I stopped moving I was hit with a massive wave of exhaustion. If anything, this would be a softer landing, ending up just 1 less point down, for now. I knew how big numbers and percentages worked from getting into finance, and knew I needed to fix this somehow at some point. Just, not now. Still, tiredness felt¡­deeper than stats. I¡¯m not sure how to put it, other than something deep within me was spent, indicating it couldn¡¯t be neglected too blatantly.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    With my stance skill active, I put in motion the second part of my plan, using my lightning straight.


    It was risky, trying to convert it from an unarmed punch to a stab on the fly, but I had little option in my mind. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can fight the next, and maybe some God will actually like my abilities enough to see utility in choosing me. Then, I can get tools to be that utility, at least for a while.


    Not big on commitment.


    Circling him while feigning stabs and stepping motions with my lead hand Wakizashi, hoping he¡¯d flinch enough for me to skip the lightning debacle and get an easy opening, but to no avail. He would step out of my range to maintain his defensive integrity as I¡¯d step outside to get his body more squared to mine, unshaken by my fake stabs and steps, until I crept close enough for him to throw a swipe that keeps me away from any openings. An odd sensation, fighting someone so large in frame compared to me in truth, and I depended on my range to win most of my tougher battles throughout my short life.


    Right before I formed the flow from my left side to explode into my lightning-like strike, he did the unthinkable; he feigned.


    Part of me was taken aback, so I recoiled, but another was excited. Finally, someone with a little fighter knowledge.


    Wondering what Korbin would do, I decided the openings were there, I simply hadn¡¯t got to them yet.


    Be patient, go at your pace.


    I continued circling again, this time throwing a jab-like stab with my lead hand Wakizashi, twisting my hips to generate speed as I lunged the blade forward. At times it felt as if when I went to attack, he teleported a bit. I couldn¡¯t really tell at first, but now with each parry from my blade onto his polearm, his figure shifted ever so slightly, but instantly. It didn¡¯t feel like he moved, the water affinity in the air mixing with my Water Stance by now allowed me to see things far slower during attack sequences, and now that he was feigning, it triggered.


    What the fuck, is this guy a mage or something?


    Maybe his agility and strength are his best stats, maybe neither, either way I was beginning to abandon trying to read his stats from the outside, and focused on his actions.


    After some poking and prodding with my blades, and the occasional calf kick when I got close enough, the fight grew in intensity. He wouldn¡¯t let me stab his stupid magician face using his defensive strikes and instant relocation. it¡¯s because of this I found myself rather fulfilled when he finally succumbed to the proverbial limp after a series of parried slashes and questionable near-misses left his leg ripe for the taking. He suddenly jolted lower after I landed a lower leg kick with my rear leg before Water Stepping away from a downward overhead swipe.


    Calf kicks are brutal, in that they sort of turn off your muscles, rendering them dead weight for a period of time that varies by how and where you got caught. Clearly, these were his first as well, which were always the worst. I almost felt bad.


    Now that the magical menace was slowed, I knew there¡¯s no way he could react in time for another strike. I stabbed again, stepping back as I lunged my lead hand. The lead Wakizashi launched forward, stabbing it a quarter inch into his chest. Feeling my back foot reach touch the ground, I coiled my flow into my left side as I bounced back at him on the balls of my feet and exploded out, twisting my body clockwise in my southpaw stance, firing the Wakizashi out like a shot out of a cannon.


    No, faster, like lightning was about to strike this poor sap right through his eye. For a moment, my weapon appeared red. As it neared my opponent¡¯s body however, it became white, and felt like the sun was burning in my hands.


    Warmth overcame me as the blade traveled through his eye socket. I''d moved faster than I¡¯ve ever while throwing that strike. Beginning to ponder why, my thoughts were interrupted abruptly by the sight of his whole body dissipating from his eye outward. The sensation of a strike flying to my arm from my right side that had followed jolted me into retreat, like I had been puppeteer''d to safety, and just in time too. I turned to see the same halberd wielding magic man I had just murdered in less than half of a second.


    ¡°Hahaha, I thought you¡¯d be tougher lil¡¯ guy. You can¡¯t even see me!¡±


    Oh, oh hah. HAHAHA. Oh okay motherfucker.

 Chapter: 5 Day 0 - Letting Loose

    There was no holding back anymore. My movements became more disciplined. My plan, completely focusing on the peripherals. My eyes, resting where his chest would be. Refusing to miss a motion, choosing to ignore the notification I got after my Lightning Strike killed his imaginary twin, I dug deep. I sought to make one thing clear; this guy was not going to beat me.


    He simply shouldn¡¯t, by his stance and clear exasperation after a minute of combat, he doesn¡¯t do this very often. I do, and I aimed to make that apparent. Hiding my steps forward with my blade by lunging from a downward angle closer to hip-height lunging upwards to his face, I aimed to draw his focus. With his eyes locked on my Wakizashi long before it could ever make purchase with his body, I lifted my lead leg stepping forward, replacing it with my rear while my body remained bladed. Dead-set on connecting to ribs, I fired out heel first, twisting from my hips to my ankle on my pivoting planted foot, putting full force into this strike.


    His body flew about 2 feet in the air before crashing and rolling along the arena flooring, spitting blood on the beautiful oceanic artwork we battled on. With that formal sign of disrespect to my favorite place thus far, I removed any ounce of remorse for this asshole I had left.


    ¡°You¡¯re over-committing, even if you don¡¯t bite on every attack. You¡¯re relying far too heavily on your reach, on many levels.¡± He didn¡¯t seem fond of my backhanded advice based on his dismissive ¡®pshh¡¯, but frankly, he ought to take it. We once shared this issue not long ago, but I learned what royally fucked that up; lying.


    Was it ratty? Sure. But so is teleporting at level one, who the fuck does that? If there¡¯s more of these pricks around here, I have got to step it up in meditation. I need more leverage.


    Bursting to his feet, the halberd wielding wizard began inching closer, indicating he was fully down to run this some more, but didn¡¯t initiate. Not immediately at least, until I took a cheeky stab at his knee with my lead blade, changing positioning around him diagonally, putting his newly exposed side in range as I transitioned across his body.


    Mistake number two, as I took the bladed spear-tipped pommel of his halberd to the stomach. A grazing blow, but it still hurt, and I too began defacing the beautiful sanctuary¡¯s artful flooring. Now, I was pissed.


    If Korbin saw this, I wouldn¡¯t hear the fucking end of it for the rest of my life.


    This was enough for me to remember a technique I learned, a type of water step that always kept you off center from your opponent by constantly stepping diagonally. It held dynamically powerful options to choose from at most any position during the steps, and defense was as simple as doing more of what you¡¯re already doing; move. I focused, and began trying to use this unarmed footwork with my weapons in hand, and I was pleasantly surprised to say the least.


    After another quick stab stepping away, he began putting a high value on blocking the less powerful attacks I was constantly poking him with, being leg slashes and arm or shoulder stabs. The more he moved, the more he bled, and he was finally getting frantic.


    Setting up my trap, I jabbed at his hand once more, only to be upset for a moment seeing it appear just an inch over where I had stabbed into, indicating to me he just used whatever he does to avoid an attack. This also meant he was about to counter attack, which was exactly my intention.


    He leaned hard into his patented diagonal strike. Anticipating this, I opened my hips and pushed my body diagonally in junction to his swing, leaving me on the right side of his now exposed body with his hands firmly on his downward-facing halberd. Not willing to miss this opportunity, I thrusted with my lead hand Wakizashi into his ribs about 2 inches deep, twisting as I pulled out.


    The kill shot would have followed barring his revealing another surprise; a second attack. It came within a second of the first, and swung from the opposite direction. This, too, was exactly what I had hoped. Repeating this diagonal stepping, this time opening the opposite way with my other leg, a mirror image of the last defensive gap appeared. This time, it was on my left side, my strong side.


    Immediately I went for his neck this time, not willing to dance long enough for him to catch on. The sensation of the blade touching soft skin indicated I was able to hit, but suddenly he was just a little to the right, bleeding a bit from his neck.


    An internalized prejudice towards mages began bubbling deep within me, but I decided it¡¯d be unfair to pass judgement on them all from this¡­rat. I¡¯ve killed him twice now, but apparently no one told him. This next time however, I will be certain he¡¯s aware.


    Before my next cycle of stepping away and punishing, I noticed something new about him. It was like he had a pull, as in a literal gravitational pull. Not strong like a planet, maybe a meteor or something, but it was definitely there, because my sleeve visibly wavered towards him as I lunged. He swung his halberd again, this time it also felt like it was trying to pull me into its path. My step had plenty of force to beat this out, but the implications of this ability worried me.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    These people don¡¯t die here. I¡¯ll either be fighting with or against everyone in this room, outside of Korbin being a certain ally. This meant I¡¯m going to see this asshole again, so I took the opportunity to rub in his inferiority more while gathering information.


    ¡°Hey, slow poke?¡± I said, stepping with an especially quick strike.


    ¡°You got some nice tricks, what¡¯s your name?¡± I asked him, but was too preoccupied inspecting his blade for a second. Whether it was a shock of happy amazement at the newfound speed or defeating disbelief was irrelevant to me, wasn¡¯t my problem.


    He staggered for a few moments to reframe into his stance properly, his leg clearly ate up from eating leg kicks between my stabs trying to get a pin on him. ¡°Really? You want to know my name? Heh, alright, Derrick. My name¡¯s Derrick. And you?¡± He seemed to relax a moment, indicating a response wouldn¡¯t be interrupted with violence.


    ¡°Tom, and yeah, cause I¡¯ll be seeing you a bit later after this. Better train up. son.¡± Derrick was clearly older than me, which was all the more reason to refer to him as my child here. He talked shit, when I was trying to conserve myself, like an asshole. In hindsight, I should¡¯ve taken the third fight more seriously, especially having seen thousands of people teleported in from afar between matches. They¡¯d later wander to their respective dooms, but there were bound to be outliers. Now, I¡¯d need to meditate on keeping my moves fresh so nobody can have my number at the start like this guy.


    Derrick was livid after this comment, and began actually charging at me.


    Got ¡®em.


    Now he was all offense, and the ocean of opportunities for me to strike opened like a Christmas present in greedy, spoiled hands. Initially I was apprehensive, but when I felt the pull again, only more amplified, I knew he was fully focused on this attack and not teleporting or whatever defensively.


    Dipping back my hip, my Flow building in my left side again, only quicker this time to avoid missing this opportunity while everything slowed slightly due to my stance. A whipping sound erupted as I exploded out again, this time further off his chests center angle, making my entrance a bit different than the prior ones. He clearly expected it to go to his head again, and it did, but it came from under his chin.


    The problem with being tall is, down is a longer way for you than your opponent. Meaning, they could get under your vision way faster than you could them, at least without compromising too much defensive integrity. I never got to use this advantage, just saw it as Korbin¡¯s fist would appear at my chin from under my guard, but now it was my turn. Boy, did I make it count.


    He had the blade wedged into his skull, but I stuck it from under his jaw. He had just lifted his halberd for another attack, and before the motion of it going upward could end, I struck. My Wakizashi was hot white from the beginning this time, yet the heat didn¡¯t bother me. It exploded into his jaw on impact, dispersing all at once and exploding bone shrapnel everywhere, including a bit that nicked my arm and gave me a little bleed.


    Oh god, I have got to wash that.


    After some difficulty yanking my blade from his brain from the bottom, I finally heaved it out of his skull. After a big spray of blood and other gelatinous fluids sprayed on my feet, he disappeared, and I was teleported right outside of the arena, attire clean and pristine.


    Looking around, I saw a few faces looking at me in horror. It would bother me, being judged so openly and audaciously, but they couldn¡¯t bother me if they tried right now. A massive warmth had filled my chest, as finally, fucking finally, I got to let loose.


    Quickly, I went to the corner closest to the waterfall flowing off the rock formation that hung around the arena, where I left my gloves the system offered I took because, well, they were free.


    My hands are calloused already, so I had no intention of pampering them now. Though, after that drawn out fight, I did begin to regret my decision a little bit, but the soreness I felt inside was but a phantom of one.


    As I checked my hands, they were just as they had been when I entered.


    Hell yeah, auto-healing is way overpowered.


    I nestled nicely into my meditation spot, crossed my legs, closed my eyes, and replayed the fight I had just walked away from covered in the gore of my enemy not 40 seconds ago.


    I simply didn¡¯t want to forget a thing, I felt there were a few great lessons from this fight hinting at areas where I saw potential to grow. These moments have always been essential, long before the stakes were this high, and my value on them was above that of riches and comfort. How else could you even get there? Other than being lucky, but that¡¯s nothing to be proud of. Only thankful over.


    The first being the lighting strike. Which reminded me, I had gotten a notification after I threw it the first time, but I ignored it to stay focused. Opening the tab in my head, I was elated to find one of the moments had already translated into some actual returns.


    Skill Acquired-> Lightning Strike (common) - Wielder is able to add Lightning mana into an attack, amplifying its speed depending on the total mana spent while using it. User gets a +4 agility when using this strike.


    Now THAT is what the fuck I¡¯m talking about.


    My body and mind felt supercharged, more inclined than ever to focus on picking apart my fights, as clearly, it yielded valuable lessons I¡¯d be beside myself to let fall to the wayside. The first step was to settle down, so I refrained from checking my status just yet. If I were able to get a few more skills, or, something more to show for this before then, it would make the review all the sweeter.


    Once I settled my blood, I focused on channeling my Flow to my mind. Well, okay, don¡¯t laugh but, my third-eye. It¡¯s a belief I had developed this year, and it truly felt like something in the literal center of my forehead opened when I got ¡®good¡¯ at it. Often what followed was a cacophony of concepts and ideas flowed through my thoughts, compared to what I¡¯d normally have I mean.


    Sometimes even placing my mind in the most serene locations, my favorite being an empty beach in the summer. Smooth sand under my toes, the cool breeze keeping the sun¡¯s beautiful rays at bay. Waves crashing around me as I¡¯d ponder things as trivial as budgeting at times, but it helped all the same.


    Putting myself back into the fight, I did my best to ignore the other guy¡¯s abilities. It felt fruitless once I figured it was something stupidly good that made no sense to me now, and that I¡¯d learn more soon enough about it I¡¯m sure. After playing back the sequences a few times in my mind, I made note of my water stepping. I wondered if it played into my Water Stance skill based on how effective it had been, so I decided to test some things out.


    With my eyes shut, I got up, and began water stepping about my immediate area. Focusing intently on if and when my speed changed, figuring agility was boosted from this skill. The skill hadn¡¯t mentioned it explicitly but, Flow was Flow. There¡¯s big and small Flow. Small keeps you alive and fast, and big kills, normally. It¡¯s fuckery, and it felt more so now than ever, so why shouldn¡¯t they overlap?


    As I stepped, I played around with the idea of seeing a bunch of skills with high rarities, accidentally pulling it up.


    Wait¡­I¡¯m not actually getting boosted.


    That couldn¡¯t be right, I was clearly faster, like, much faster doing the steps in form than just walking, or even messing up the steps themselves. Yet, when I did it with my status open, no boosts triggered. When doing my normal fighter bounce, low and behold; +3 agility, +3% endurance. Turns out, flow is indeed that much more bullshit now. This at first puzzled me deeply, but I was washed with a sense of excitement for the opportunity.


    I need to make this a skill.


    Sadly, before I had the chance to start his estimated form of training for it, I was blipped once again into the arena.

 Chapter: 6 Day 0 - Brigid

    There he is.


    I heard about this guy, he¡¯s the same guy I had seen looking at my ass while I left the magma arena earlier. 6¡¯2, slim but pretty fit for how slim he was, and he was fast. I hadn¡¯t gotten to see him fight, but I heard about the guy staying at the water arena who was apparently ¡®shitting¡¯ on everyone.


    Curious of my competition, I came over here regularly, waiting to see him before I pressed my finger to the prick at each totem at the front of every arena. It was essentially how you signed up, you just never knew when you¡¯d get teleported in if you stayed nearby, nor who you¡¯d be fighting.


    This first came to light after the magma arena, where I decided I was bored fighting such literal hotheaded idiots, and wanted a decent foe to show my abilities off to the Gods with. My dad was a black belt in multiple disciplines of karate, judo, and practiced pretty much every other martial art. He was ex-Special Forces, and after my mom died of cancer when I was a little girl, he was determined to make sure I could protect myself.


    My mom liked to fight too, I guess. I don¡¯t remember her much, but he told me she wasn¡¯t a soldier, but a warrior. She came from a rough neighborhood in Illinois, and her brothers constantly tried to beat her up for being annoying. She took to my Dad when they were young, because my Dad defended her young. Fourth grade to be exact.


    Someone had shoved my Mom over for asking to join in on handball, and my Dad being the hothead he was, used his brand new head kick his Sensei had taught him on a fellow child. Needless to say, he wasn¡¯t at school for a while, but my Dad said they were practically inseparable after that. It was always weird to me, as I rarely ever even had a crush, even into adulthood. Just some lustful needs that anyone might need fulfilled from time to time. We¡¯re all human, after all.


    So, after years of training, I joined the Army. It was fun really, after initial testing and a word from my father, I got where I wanted to be relatively quickly. I was actually on an operation when this all went down and, thank god it did. The mission, and myself, had been compromised. My cover was blown by a fellow Op gone rogue for a bigger payroll. Long story short, he¡¯s dead, but I was in a chair wrapped in heavy chains with a crowbar headed directly for my knee before everything just went white.


    Shaking my memories of failure, I refocused on the fight, and asked a few nearby spectators the name of this fighter who was clearly just toying with his food at the moment. It was subtle, but his speed was there, I could see it in his foot placement. He¡¯s leagues ahead of the other guy, who frankly looked lost out there. It was a mage, about 5¡¯8, and clearly liked the cold, because he kept hurling ice shards at the potential perfect candidate for my glorious triumph to absolutely no avail. The other guy just kept stepping to the side, sometimes at the last moment, but with absolutely no change in urgency.


    What a smug asshole.


    As the fight progressed a few more seconds and everyone ignored my question, it seemed my candidate was getting bored because he started advancing. The Mage couldn¡¯t hide his fear by this point, and it seemed as though everyone here had been watching this guy kill strangers, maybe even their friends for a while, because faces turned grim. As he got within 6 feet of the Mage, I saw him cross his legs for a moment. It was odd, he placed his rear foot in front of his lead, maintaining his bladed stance, but then he floated there for a moment. Not in air, but his pace.


    The mage saw this, and immediately freaked out, letting loose an ice shard directly at the cocky swordsman¡¯s head at the fastest speed I¡¯d seen from him yet. There was no way this guy was going to dodge this all pretzeled up like that.


    Heh, competition my a-


    My train of thought stopped dead in tracks as I watched this smug, shifty, dirty blonde asshole, twist his shoulders and body just as fast as the ice shard released, rotating to his other shoulder while traveling at a slight outward U-formation, completely dodging its trajectory by a centimeter.


    Finishing his rotation, he stabbed with his lead hand which was his rear hand prior and during the stupid squat-step, and jammed it into the mages shoulder blade, causing him to drop his wand he¡¯d been using to cast.


    What the fuck was that?!


    The mage squirmed and hollered in pain, scrambling to get his footing. He was confused and I didn¡¯t blame him quite frankly. It wasn¡¯t just speed that got him, it was the lie. He looked out of place, like he miss-stepped at the worst possible time, so the Mage jumped on his chance. It was a trap, one admittedly I wanted to understand better.


    The clear victor approached his victim at a regular walk now. The Mage cowered as the man lifted his arm to finish off his opponent. The Mage quickly dropped to the floor. Pitiful. He really refused to go out with some dignity. The next thing I saw almost shocked me as much as the weird footwork. The sword wielding egomaniac I had just watched embarrass this poor guy for sport was now reaching his hand out, gesturing to help the Mage up.


    The other guy must¡¯ve been just as confused as I was, because it took a moment before he apprehensively accepted his offer. He helped him up, patted his shoulder, and gestured a ¡¯fist bump¡¯, with a smile and a nod. This too was reciprocated, only not the smile part. It looked more like a thankfulness, and it was followed by the blade wielder gesturing his hands to the Mage and back to himself.


    He proceeded to step back, then slowly he stepped outwardly with his lead leg while keeping his body facing the Mage, much like he had when he was dodging the barrage of ice shards coming at him, and froze there. He then gestured for the Mage to do the same, and copied the same hand motion the Mage had made while casting.


    Is he showing him how to beat him right now?


    Seeing this act of kindness felt like such a massive waste of this guy¡¯s time. He had to have known by now why we¡¯re here, and he doesn¡¯t seem like much of a healer, or particularly noble in how he fought. Yet he spent the next few minutes showing the novice Mage exactly how to deal with him at range, though part of me doubted this would change the outcome had they gone at it again.


    After some time, they shook hands, and the bladesman proceeded to shift over and quickly jab his skinny, curved blade downward into the Mage¡¯s spine from behind at his neck. With that, the Mage was gone, queueing me to leave.


    I had no intention of discussing anything with them, not until I decided whether or not I¡¯d need to feign companionship in order to win, had it come to it in this tournament. There were a few more I wanted to scout, a few others were rather disappointing however, and I disposed of them accordingly.


    This one I¡¯ll be watching closely, but not until after I get a few more rounds in at the Metals Arena. This, and checking in on the potential threat looming a few battlegrounds away, back at the Magma Arena.


    Day 0: Cheated


    It¡¯s been 16 fights now. 16 fights that I spent surrounded by heat that shouldn¡¯t be physically possible given the climates surrounding the arena. Fires and magma balls launched around the arena¡¯s exterior, beating down on me through my light armor plating I¡¯d selected to maximize my weaker agility, making my body feel as if I¡¯d been covered in a molten rock.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Not even an inch separated this from the neighboring battle arena¡¯s multicolored clouds that formed and dispersed quickly over what looked like an arena floating in the sky. Powerful winds audibly cracked and whistled whenever nearing their borders. To make matters stranger, after each fight I make a full recovery after I¡¯d tasted victory. No matter how narrowly I¡¯d come to death, mortal wounds and charred flesh be damned, I returned unscathed. It was exhilarating, but nothing like what I was accustomed to.


    The latter half of my teenage years were spent training under my uncle, though not one by blood but through mentorship. A connoisseur of combatives knowledge, he was a man of honor like no other I¡¯ve had the privilege to know. It was his honorable nature that also troubled me deeply, as his son was the polar opposite of him. He had no remorse for a warrior¡¯s code of ethics, never once had he minded his actions through any other lense than that of a coward. Too afraid to lose, and completely fearless in the face of despondency from his masters, and literal father.


    I never had the privilege of a father so involved in ensuring my capabilities as a man are met. In fact, I never met the guy. So to see his snot-nosed son be so disrespectful and still progressed his training all the same, and with far more ferver at that, was appalling.


    ¡°It¡¯s not fair, Sensai. I understand he¡¯s your blood, but I¡¯ve devoted my life to your teachings. I¡¯m the first one here, and the last one to be dragged off the mat. He can¡¯t even bother showing up on time, and you live together?!¡±


    Memories of his son ¡®achieving¡¯ his Brown Belt scattered across my mind, even when he had technically failed his evaluation test. It wasn¡¯t that he lost his fights, it¡¯s how he won. Eye pokes, nostril pulling, feigning injury, it was deplorable. Every time he won, his opponent shared the same scrunched up expression I maintained the last 6 years watching this apathetic narcissist flounce his way up the ranks.


    ¡°I know, Hyde. I¡¯ve told you this before, and it pains me each time, but my son is not like you. He cannot take failures with the same grace, and has yet to see reason why honor should matter if it¡¯s yet to prove fruitful.¡±


    ¡°Yet when anyone else is out of line, you remind them swiftly, with the punishment to follow suit. How is this fair?¡±


    I¡¯d never gotten so confrontational with him before. Honestly, I¡¯d hardly said a word past ¡®thank you¡¯ or ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®sorry Sensei¡¯, but I couldn¡¯t contain it anymore. How could a man so respectable allow such a mockery continue under his care, let alone it being his own blood?


    ¡°Hyde, you know that I hold the utmost of pride in you, and how far you¡¯ve come. But you forget, you were just like him when you first wandered in here. You insisted my son was a monster, and demanded the right to teach him some manners. Tell me, if I had treated you how you now wish for me to treat Hyde, do you believe you¡¯d be here now?¡±


    His words were said as if intended to comfort me, and reassure me in some way by reminding me of how stupid I was as a preteen. Of the lying, stealing, the unyielding hatred I held for the world.


    It didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Let me fight him now, then. No underhanded tricks, an honorable fight. If I win, he must retest, if he wi-¡°


    ¡°NO, Hyde.¡±


    The entire room had already been silent, but now you could hear a pin drop.


    ¡°You forget yourself, this is not a debate. I¡¯m telling you, as your Sensei, let it go.¡± After failing to adhere to his warnings, I was promptly punished, 200 pushups under 6 minutes for 5 sets. It was shortly after that this whole¡­¡¯thing¡¯ happened, and has served as the flame of vengeance that burned within me, far worse than my arms did after my many punishments.


    I will find you, Jackson.


    I knew he was here, I¡¯d seen him, and followed him to this arena. I¡¯d watched him perform all of his dirty tricks on the unsuspecting few. They were undeserving of this cruelty, I¡¯m almost certain he didn¡¯t need to cheat to win any of those fights. I knew I just had to keep winning, and I¡¯d not only get to prove to Jackson once and for all who¡¯s the better fighter, but I¡¯ll have the Godly backing to prove it. Already I¡¯d received a few notifications, each labeled with a God¡¯s name articulating their interest in me. Finally, now I¡¯d have my recognition. I just had to keep winning. Plus, I knew he was watching me, too.


    My thoughts drifted back to the present at the sensation of suddenly no longer being surrounded by fellow challengers awaiting their next round, only to be replaced by the vast flaming arena I had grown accustomed to, and a new challenger that stood ahead of me. As I focused, I recognized the figure from watching a few other fights here, hoping to see Jackson and ensure my plans were not foiled by another contestant. I half-payed attention, as usually if it wasn¡¯t Jackson, I¡¯d reserve my mental energy for reaffirming my purpose, not letting anything distract me from my goal. Still, his fights were usually rather quick, so I knew I was in for a challenge. It wouldn¡¯t be the first hard fight, but I knew I could handle it.


    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s your name, buddy?¡± The man hollered in a playful tone, raising his empty hand in a cup shape to amplify his voice. We started a mere 15 feet away from one another, so why he did this was beyond me.


    ¡°Hyde, Hyde Kaldor. And yours?¡±


    ¡°Korbin, just Korbin.¡±


    Interesting, maybe he too had little care for his bloodline.


    ¡°Korbin, you¡¯ve fought well up to this point. I will warn you though, your impressive journey ends here today.¡±


    He squinted a moment in thought, only to widen his eyes before cackling abruptly, gripping his stomach with his hand and sword hilt.


    ¡°Oh-hoho,¡± he chuckled, ¡°ohh man, okay, no we¡¯ll see.¡± He said before assuming a readied stance as he finished his sentence. I¡¯ll admit, his confidence is respectable, but it¡¯s clearly crossed into the realm of arrogance. This will be his undoing.


    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready then, Hyde.¡±


    With that, my resolve was affirmed, and I stepped into my stance. I encroached not slowly, but calculated, making sure my range wasn¡¯t a hair past where I wanted it to go.


    My weapon of choice, the Spatha, was one that carried a decorated history to the Romans, in a time where warriors were far more honorable. Its broad blade combined with exceptional length provided a perfect weapon for attacking at range, and my shield made those openings possible though parrying. Sure, some faster guys were tough to defend against as their attacks were tough to even see, but skill always outweighs pure talent. Most of these people had no clue how to use the weapons they held, and it was obvious.


    I crept an inch closer, surmising this was all the distance I needed for the blade to reach deep enough into his chest to possibly end this fight before it started, when a shiny glimmer appeared to the left of my peripherals. Instinctually, I raised my shield, only to have the impact of his sword slamming my shield directly launch me head over heels sideways. Feeling the ground on my back, I rolled through, landing on my feet and standing with the momentum.


    Damn, I didn¡¯t even see him move.


    This was by far the fastest attack I¡¯d seen in my entire life, the tournament be damned. Sensei hadn¡¯t even been capable of this speed, at least not in his old age. Not to mention the sheer force. Even if I hadn¡¯t sheathed his attack, it shouldn¡¯t have thrown me 4 feet in any direction. Clearly, he¡¯d been reaping some sort of super human abilities from a God or something. Otherwise that exchange would¡¯ve ended with my sword in his gut, not my ass to the floor.


    ¡°Hm, Scatha and Scutum? A man of culture.¡± He said, looking at my sword and shield. I lunged at him once more, only for him to parry by smacking the side of my blade. I tumbled at the change of direction, but quickly gathered myself.


    ¡°A keen eye, what discipline do you follow, warrior?¡±


    His demeanor seemed to change at this comment. Where before he carried a whimsical tone about him, now replaced by a glaring look.


    ¡°Heh, the day I let just anyone discipline me.¡± He snickered vitriolically, clearly conveying this being his genuine opinion based on the eye contact that followed.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to be enemies, Korbin. I have mine, you are my opponent, nothing more.¡±


    ¡°¡®Nothing more?!¡¯¡± He fired back, followed his sword appearing once again at the corner of my vision just in time to raise my guard, before tumbling once more.


    ¡°I¡¯m your humbling incarnate, in case you forgot about the last 10 seconds. You shouldn¡¯t worry about your enemies so much with your daddy right in front of you. How you been, kiddo? Your mother still a raging bitch?¡±


    You motherfucker.


    He had no clue what kind of pain he just promised himself. I will not make this quick.


    ¡°COME HERE-¡° I shouted, enraged by the audacity of this putrid filth. This utter stain on the name of any warrior who might¡¯ve considered this trash as equal. He held no respect. No dignity for his fellow man. No honor. I exploded at him, activating the skill I¡¯d received after picking my class.


    Quickened Impale, a skill that allowed for my first stab to be far faster than anything I¡¯d been able to achieve before all of this. It was like my arm had known its true purpose, that it was to serve my intent based on what must be done, not what¡¯s typically considered possible. My very first inkling that life might just become how it was supposed to be, that I¡¯d be a part of something better for humanity. This heathen before me, however, stood between me and that eventuality right now, but not for long.


    Lunging forward, his eyes widened once more as my blade made purchase with this slimy snake¡¯s skin-like hide. It felt too clean but, why else would his body have recoiled backwards so violently? For a moment I was disappointed. I figured based on that first attack, he¡¯d be a tougher match. I pulled back my sword, and was about to lop this big mouthed fighter¡¯s head clean off when a cold sensation overtook my lower stomach, and felt like it was quickly running through my garments and down my legs. I looked down, now with my own eyes wide, seeing his sword stabbed to the hilt into the center of my breast plate.


    ¡°You missed.¡± He muttered into my ear through a toothy grin, holding me up by his sword. By now realization struck that, not only wasn¡¯t he wounded by my stab, it had never touched him. He pretended to get hit. He fucking lied.


    ¡°G-you..m-thonuva¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t muster my thoughts coherently, gagging only my own blood now, fighting for air. I couldn¡¯t believe this.


    ¡°You know Hyde, I¡¯ll admit, you¡¯re pretty quick. Quicker than what I¡¯ve dealt with so far, and I¡¯m not really trying to sweat just yet.¡±


    He fucking lied.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand, a win¡¯s a win. We¡¯re all here trying to do the same thing bud.¡±


    He didn¡¯t care about how he won. About any moral code or creed. He didn¡¯t care how he conducted himself in the heat of battle. He had no honor.


    ¡°A word of advice though? Keep the ¡®discipline¡¯ and ¡®warrior¡¯ talk to a minimum, cause you really pissed me off there for a second, I¡¯m not gonna lie.¡±


    He was selfish.


    ¡°So, naturally, I had to end this fast, or else I would¡¯ve gone way too hard on you. Frankly, I don¡¯t want that. You don¡¯t want that.¡±


    Scheming.


    Narcissistic.


    Weak.


    He¡¯s just like him.


    ¡°Awww, Don¡¯t worry champ, you¡¯ll get ¡®em next time.¡±


    Mustering all my rage, my newfound hatred for this false-victor, this disgusting fucking rodent, I grabbed his shoulder with all the strength I had left.


    ¡°You¡­fffugcking¡­¡±


    He ripped his sword from my chest, and before I felt myself now standing, surrounded by white walls and other people, I roared with newfound vigor.


    ¡°RAAAAAAAT!!!!!!!!!¡±

 Chapter: 7 Day 0 - Manifested

    Uhp, guess it¡¯s showtime again.


    My meditation was for the 36th time interrupted abruptly by the sensation of no longer being surrounded by the mumbling remainder of contestants, a group far smaller than it had been when I got here. To be fair, I had a lot to do with the dwindling hopefuls. Since my 3rd fight, where I defeated that stupid Peekaboo-Knight, my focus sharpened to whole new heights with each passing fight. It wasn¡¯t until fight 19 that I was able to finally convince whatever higher power of the wonders of water stepping during my meditation, and was rewarded in kind with a skill.


    Water Step (common) - your devotion to your style has awakened your body to what your mind and spirit have already known as a fundamental law, allowing you to channel your affinity into any step omnidirectionally so long as you¡¯re in Flow, further connecting your physical body to your mind and soul. +3 agility while active.


    The wording on this skill was unique to the prior two, in that it mentioned not only the three pillars of health I subscribed to, but Flow. It acknowledged Flow not a breath after mentioning a ¡¯fundamental law¡¯ nonetheless, implying Flow itself might¡¯ve been this law. I felt a rush of inherent knowledge over the skill as it pinged my notifications though, and part of it which included the intuition it still only applied officially within the parameters of the skills description.


    At first, I wrote off the skill, thinking nothing of it, as the boost in agility was equal to that of my Water Stance skill, and I felt a slight discrepancy in speed between the two before Water Step was an official skill. Upon testing it at the beginning of fight 20 against a fellow rogue to close the early 15-foot distance, only to find myself 3 feet away in what felt like an instant, I realized I couldn¡¯t have been more wrong.


    Now, initially, seeing this guy so close without seeing him flinch even a little, the memory of Derrick, The Mystical flashed in my mind and¡­I reacted in kind. I wouldn¡¯t have activated Lightning Strike, aiming directly for this poor guy¡¯s jugular at the tail end of my Water Step, causing his entire skull to explode from his neck up like a melon filled with bone fragments and C4. My Wakizashi¡¯s glow changing from white to dark blue using this combo probably would¡¯ve occurred to me before fight 26, but the impact of this gentleman¡¯s skull blowing up in my face distracted me from my ah-hah moment.


    Speaking of fight 26, the only reason I discovered the disparity in the energy¡¯s hues with said combo was due to this Healer of all classes. It was an older fellow, probably in his early 60¡¯s, with a full head of silver white hair in a comb over. He wore an all white tunic set, with the boots and hood hanging back to match. Before any blows were thrown, I assumed him to be another Mage. It wasn¡¯t until he refused to engage that I even attacked in the first place.


    ¡°You may strike when you please, sir. I warn you, we will be here for quite some time, so the sooner the better young man.¡±


    Scrunching my brows, I said with remorse, ¡°no, old-timer, I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s fast. Sorry about this.¡±


    Prior to stabbing my blade straight through my elders heart, something came over me. A screaming sense that I shouldn¡¯t stab this guy outright. Freezing in my tracks, I assumed my Water Stance after realizing I¡¯d closed the distance.


    Why am I hesitating?¡±


    Not wanting to be too stagnant, and testing myself as well, I threw a calf kick at the seemingly defenseless old man, hoping a warning would make him understand the situation he was in. How he had gotten this far never occurred to me, until a familiar pain manifested in my calf. One I hadn¡¯t felt since¡­last week? Applying pressure on my leg, another familiarity arose. A sense of weakness, like it simply functioned less optimally.


    Wait a minute, when did HE calf kick ME?!


    It was unmistakable, this pain and I had long been acquainted after this past year. He never even moved, yet I knew my leg just took a hit. A bit frustrated, I let another leg kick loose on the old man in a more cautious manner. My leg swung out and around, with my shin headed straight for his calf. The moment after it connected, he winced just a little before another wave of pain spread throughout the back of my calf. It was the same leg I kicked him with.


    ¡°Ahh what the fuck?!¡± For a second time, an opponent appears to find creative ways to negate my attacks. ¡°What are you doing?!¡±


    Calmly, he retorted, ¡°I do nothing. I wish for peace, this fighting is not the answer we all must seek. You¡¯re only hurting yourself, child.¡±


    Hurting myself. Pacifistic preaching.


    Shit.


    ¡°You¡¯re a healer class, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    The old man smiled at the question, and responded smirking while raising one eyebrow, ¡°A smart cookie, how exciting.¡± He lifted one finger upwards, gesturing for ¡®one second¡¯ before very slowly sitting on the ground.


    ¡°Yes, I chose the healer class. I have no means of harming anyone myself, nor the intent, and I made that very clear to the nice man in the suit.¡±


    Wait, how the hell did he even qualify to be here?!


    ¡°You¡¯re aware everyone here is the world¡¯s top percent of capable humans, have you not questioned why you¡¯re here?¡± I began to grow agitated.


    ¡°Oh I know, the nice man told me before I came here. I¡¯m not sure young buck, all I did was tend to my wife and gardens. I miss her dearly right now.¡±


    Oh jeez. It¡¯s just my luck to fight the kindest guy in here right now.


    ¡°I-¡­I¡¯m sorry you miss your wife. Truly, and I hope she¡¯s safe right now. Maybe you ought to see her sooner than later?¡±


    The idea seemed to strike the old man, as he immediately turned his eyes down with his face contorted into a pondering stare. After a few moments, he looked back up.


    ¡°I would love nothing more. I¡¯m worried she¡¯s alone right now. But, no one can hurt me long, son. I feel the pain for a second, but then I feel it all flying back at whoever hurt me. I can¡¯t control it.¡± His dry, wrinkly eyelids began welling with tears.


    Seriously, what the fuck is this guys skills.


    An involuntary reverse-card for all damage, I couldn¡¯t imagine this being fair. How could someone who couldn¡¯t be hurt get to exist here?! No one thus far was this overpowered, not even the Blonde in the black leather armor from the Arena surrounded by fire-stuff. This had to be a mistake, a massive oversight on somebody¡¯s part. Except, he mentioned one thing that intrigued me.


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    ¡°Hey, you said you feel it for just a second before the pain moves out of you, and into your opponents, right?¡±


    He blinked quickly and refocused his eyes to me as I spoke, before responding,¡± uh-yeah, yeah just for a second though.¡±


    ¡°Do you bleed for a second?¡±


    He looked puzzled at the question, only to fall back into deep contemplation for a few beats. With a snap of his fingers and a shaky-handed point, he blurted out, ¡±Yes!! Yes when I was first put in here. An angry fellow came and stabbed me in my stomach, and I saw my blood begin to pool from the wound before he spit out his own blood, and fell to the floor.¡±


    I see. There¡¯s a delay.


    ¡°Ok, well, one of two things are about to happen, old friend. Either you¡¯re about to see your beloved in person real soon, or my head is gonna roll across the floor in front of you. You ready?¡±


    He didn¡¯t look ready based on the increase in full-body shaking, though who his fear was for I was unsure, but he nodded affirmatively anyway.


    ¡°Alright, tell the wife I said hello.¡±


    With that, I Water Stepped at him full speed, and activated my Lightning Strike as I lunged at his neck. If I could technically kill him before his skill activated, theoretically I¡¯d win. My mind kept emphasizing this was a massive gamble up until my second skill activated, but my body yielded no involuntary resistance to it, nor did that sense of alarm that sounded internally the first time.


    I had to commit, otherwise we¡¯d be in limbo for the rest of the tournament, probably discussing how different the world was to him even before all this. My attack flew out with inhuman speed, carrying the dark blue hue I took mental note of this time. A sharp tip made contact with the same spot I¡¯d hit my last opponent, intending to replicate the explosive outcome. Wakizashi steel snaked through his windpipe, connected to his spine, then dispersed the colored hue all at once into the Death-Deflecting Healer, followed by a massive ¡®BANG¡¯.


    I opened my eyes to see the familiar crowd of contestants, now one more short. Sighing in relief, I moseyed back to my meditation spot. Just this once, however, I meditated not on my skill development, but the old man. Hopefully, my thoughts and well wishes I focused on will manifest to him, too.


    Day 0: Another Reason


    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s Tom, right? Are we doing this or what?!¡±


    Right, number 36.


    ¡°Now, why would you say that? Have you been paying attention over here?¡± Genuinely, I questioned this guy¡¯s gullet.


    Since being forced to put down the kind old healer so many fights back, I¡¯ve yet to let up. No taking it easy. No jokes. I wasn¡¯t playing anymore. The fun died with him, someone I didn¡¯t even bother to ask their name. His words were shallow, albeit sweet, but his existence here reminded me of something rather vital regarding these contestants.


    That being, they weren¡¯t guaranteed to be my enemy the moment this ended, and the Tutorial for all of man commenced. They weren¡¯t even certain to be a threat, the evidence of that compiling with every corpse I leave to be blipped away. Now, it was merely training to defend myself and whoever I¡¯m with after this optimally, even if winning still felt good. Being weaker than what put me and him here felt worse.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m comin¡¯ here from the Metal-centric arena down a ways away. Lady there was cleanin¡¯ house and, the line looked short here.¡± Once again finding myself having to replay what this dipshit just said again, curiosity at his last sentence temporarily defused my resolve.


    ¡°Lady? Was she blonde, black leather armor, super fucking fast?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Uhh, yeah that¡¯s her.¡± His relaxed demeanor morphed slowly into apprehension as he grabbed his elbow as he spoke next. ¡°Why, did she come from here?!¡±


    Yep, that¡¯s her.


    ¡°Chill out, she hasn¡¯t been here, least not that I¡¯ve seen.¡± His shoulders fell as he sighed visibly.


    ¡°What¡¯s her name, though?¡±


    He shrugged with his palms in the air, tilting his head and protruding his lower lip.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, she showed up before my fight and turned the guy I really hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to fight into red fucking mist. I decided not to stick around to ask.¡±


    Honestly, that was fair.


    ¡°Alright, well, thanks. I¡¯m ready when you are.¡± I said, entering my Water Stance after.


    ¡°Fuuuck you don¡¯t mess around. Yeah okay, let¡¯s dance.¡± Unsheathing his daggers that appeared to have sickle shaped blades beside the vertical one, the slender average size man readied himself, both daggers facing the sky and my toes simultaneously as he stood slightly bladed, between a boxer and the stereotypical karate stance.


    Leaning his body forward, the clear fellow-Rogue launched himself at me, quickly pacing toward me in small steps before coming up a whole 8-feet away before lunging his lead hand dagger at me in a stabbing motion.


    Way too far dude.


    The daggers couldn¡¯t be longer than the average carving knife, much less 8-feet long, so I didn¡¯t think much of it until I noticed he¡¯d let go of it entirely. Cursing myself for not seeing a tactic used on me at the very beginning coming, I watered stepped straight backwards, giving me 5 feet of space in less than a second.


    Admiring my work for a moment, the dagger traveled 2 more feet in front me before stopping its air travel abruptly, to be yanked back equally as quickly to the Rogue¡¯s hand.


    He must¡¯ve seen my look of bewilderment staring at his dagger, because he lifted the one he caught and wagged it between his first finger and thumb.


    ¡°What, these? These are kyoketsu-shoges. My family passed a pair down through generations upon generation, except mine are new.¡±


    Blades danced around him in the air as he put his skill with these ancient weapons on full display, allowing me to see the metal chains connected to a circular metal ring he had on each wrist.


    Ohhhh, now I get it.


    ¡°You¡¯re like, a yo-yo ninja? That¡¯s pretty cool.¡±


    I had to chuckle, mainly because how the fuck was he going to block? Sure, it¡¯s cool, and the range is vast, but what happens if I¡¯m in close when his blades aren¡¯t? He didn¡¯t appreciate my question as much as I had though, his brow furrowed as he spoke in a viprous tone.


    ¡°Won¡¯t be laughing long, the last loser I fought couldn¡¯t walk, talk, he couldn¡¯t do a thing except bleed, beg, and cry. ¡®Death by a thousand cuts¡¯, only his lack of a tongue must¡¯ve caused blood loss to do him in.¡±


    My eyelid twitching, already a massive wave of hatred washed over me, yet he persisted, giggling now at his own recollection.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve seen it honestly, the little twerp. Couldn¡¯t be older than 18, damn slippery though. I¡¯d wager the little shit was a track prodigy or something, maybe next time I see him he¡¯ll have somewhere to run. YOU though, not so mu-¡°


    His incessant rambling about himself was cut short as I Water Stepped to him, dropping one Wakizashi to free my fist to throw an overhand aimed directly for his jaw. The bone splintered as my first knuckle connected, sending his head jerking to my right and downward.


    Ensuring he wouldn¡¯t say anything stupid for the rest of this brutal lesson in abusing power, I dropped my second Wakizashi to follow up with a lead uppercut to his now sideways facing skull, aiming again for his jaw on the other side. His head jerked upward, and a loud crack could be heard from his neck as he was lifted off his feet, falling straight on his back. He was unconscious, but he was still here.


    Strolling up to his motionless body, I grabbed his weapons off his wrists and out of his hands, and tossed them away from us. They looked cool, but I could see multiple situations in which they¡¯d be rendered utterly useless. This one, being in the hands of a self righteous monster, being my favorite. I slapped his face around for a while until his eyes shot open, followed by a hallowed sounding yelp or two.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter killer? Cat obliterated your face?¡± Hindsight, only one other person here would know why that¡¯s so funny, and he¡¯s at the fire arena being a menace in his own right. Doubtful this douchebag would¡¯ve enjoyed it regardless, but it wasn¡¯t for him.


    Grabbing him by both sides of his cheeks, he lurched in pain as I lifted his ugly mug, and whipped it around the arena in all directions.


    ¡°Come on now, tell the last guy again how you picked him apart? What was it you said, he couldn¡¯t walk?¡± Tossing his head back to the ground grabbing his ankles, I flipped him over like I was dumping a wagon of dirt and debris on a construction site.


    Sliding under his leg, I wrapped my own around his, resting one shin behind his knee with an acute bend facing to my side. The other leg faced down towards him, locking my ankle in place with the back of my own knee, forming a triangular space where his knee rested on my hip under him.


    Torqueing back, his knee made a series of small snapping sounds that ended in a very big popping sound and a blood curdling screech. So, I spun his flopping shin now bent the opposite way, for good measure. Now, he sobbed.


    ¡°No no stop, you¡¯re skipping steps crying like that, we¡¯re going to have to start over.¡±


    I stood up, leaned into his face, ¡°Now, say ¡®stop¡¯ coherently, and I¡¯ll kill myself right here, right now.¡±


    He whimpered, staring at me with tear filled eyes.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Say it.¡±


    He closed his eyes, letting a tear roll down once more. I slapped him, no skills attached.


    ¡°SAY IT.¡±


    Like someone fresh off of getting their wisdom teeth pulled, his purple and deformed face spattered out blood and saliva as he let out a muffled ¡±thtop¡± through his cries.


    ¡°Oh wow, so you can¡¯t talk.¡± I mosied over to my weapons.¡± You said he couldn¡¯t walk, he was only good for bleeding,¡± I stabbed into his shoulder, impaling my Wakizashi into the ground below.


    ¡°¡­begging, we both know that won¡¯t do you any good. And crying.¡±


    I squatted back down next to him, leaning into his face.


    ¡°How you feel right now? Do you feel good? You think you made good decisions here?¡± My hands wrapped around his throat now, slowly applying more and more pressure to his windpipe.


    ¡°Do you think I won¡¯t hesitate to kill you in far, far more creative and time consuming ways when we¡¯re out of here, just so the world doesn¡¯t have to foster another soulless monster wearing the husk of a man as skin? Do you think this ends here between me and you? I can¡¯t speak for your opponents, but I know you are nothing.¡±


    His trachea collapsed in my hands, and I was blipped out of the arena. This time, not a single person dared look in my direction. They had nothing to worry about, they weren¡¯t in any danger of having something like that happen to them, not even a rabid dog deserved what I did. But that monster? The kind that dissects people for fun, only to cower like a fucking dog when faced with someone strong?


    Fuck them, they¡¯re less than nothing as far as I¡¯m concerned. I¡¯d almost forgotten they existed after having spent so much time considering the old man, but I needed this. I needed to remember why I was so serious when I first got here, a refresher of the spectrum of human nature, namely the sado-maleficent side.


    Only now they¡¯ve proven themselves powerful, and confident enough already to wreak havoc on the weak. Another reason to stop fucking around, I suppose. Had I not opened my fat mouth, I might¡¯ve been able to focus on my technique against a new weapon, instead of perform public torture in front of a multiverse.


    Oh well, time to meditate.

 Chapter: 8 Day 0 - Heavy Is The Head

    ¡°God FUCKING damnit!¡± I yelled, throwing my Wakizashi at the wall beside where I always meditate after a fight. It had been 32 whole fights since I openly tortured that sadist if a Rogue, and I¡¯d yet to find another breakthrough for another skill. I know I shouldn¡¯t be so spoiled, looking over my stat sheet to read my skills list.


    Name: Tom Murphy


    Race: [Human(H) - level 1]


    Class: Rogue


    Profession: None


    Strength: 12


    Agility: 16


    Endurance: 13


    Perception: 10


    Vitality: 8


    Toughness: 12


    Wisdom: 15


    Willpower: 8


    Titles: None


    Skills:


    Duel Swordsman (uncommon) -


    +2 agility + 3 endurance, proficiency for duel short swords


    Water stance (common) -  +3 agility +3% perception when in perpetual motion using this stance, -6% debuff endurance


    Lightning Strike (common) - Wielder is able to add Lightning mana into an attack, amplifying its speed depending on the total mana spent while using it. User gets a +4 agility when using this strike.


    Water Step (common) - your devotion to your style has awakened your body to what your mind and spirit have already known as a fundamental law, allowing you to channel your affinity into any step omnidirectionally so long as you¡¯re in Flow, further connecting your physical body to your mind and soul. +3 agility while active.


    Level 1, and already I had 4 skills, 3 of which I earned through mere trial and contemplation. I¡¯d also gone through 68 opponents before seeing level 2, but it¡¯s not like skills were the only thing I could achieve here. My notifications were intermittently dinging so often, I had to figure out how to turn it off which only took intent to do so. Gods of all kinds had been messaging me, some even going so far as to request an in person meeting. Naturally, I took a few up on the offer, and found myself teleported to a new place each time, all wildly different in appearance and¡­feeling.


    The sharp, splitting gut responses to each God and their little realms had really put a massive damper on attaining a Patron around here. I would arrive before some Being that felt like different flavors of living nuclear reactors, and immediately the feeling of not belonging overwhelmed my thoughts accompanied by immense pain, with no logical reasoning to back it. One in particular who referred to themselves as Florstrum, called it the moment I stepped foot in his chambers.


    ¡°You, human, do not belong to me.¡±


    Through clenched teeth holding my stomach, I grumbled angrily.


    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®belong¡¯?!¡±


    ¡°Watch your tone, mortal.¡±


    His room shook, and a green energy emitted from his body above his throne of vines, headed for me in a cloud of ethereal smoke.


    ¡°You will learn respect little on-¡°


    He paused, looking at me with a face of what I believed to be surprise, though it was hard to tell given his bark skin covered in vines and various plant life shifted similarly to a person¡¯s, but barely.


    ¡°You¡­how are you standing? What tricks do you play, mortal?!¡±


    ¡°Look man, I¡¯m in some real pain over here. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, but please if you won¡¯t help me, send me back.¡± It was as I glanced up from the ground to say this that I noticed his little smoke screen had surrounded me entirely, glowing so slightly.


    ¡°Tell whatever God that sent you, I will not take petty pranks lightly, mortal.¡±


    Just like that, I botched another interview. At least my stomach stopped feeling like I swallowed acid tipped razors now that I¡¯m out of there, but he mentioned I didn¡¯t ¡®belong¡¯ to him. That implied I did belong to someone else. The problem was, I hadn¡¯t signed any contracts or agreed to any form of loyalty to any Gods yet.


    First it was a Warrior God, Khathorn, who was admitted fine as fuck. Besides some cloth that did the bare minimum of covering up, she had two curved short swords in hand that glowed with a bright white hue along the blades, and Gold illuminating stones at the center of each hilt. She even offered me some badass swords for after the tournament ended that would increase my agility by 8%, a massive boost with even larger implications once I can start adding points to my stats with level ups.


    She explained I couldn¡¯t receive any direct boons from any Gods before the tutorial, but that didn¡¯t mean arrangements couldn¡¯t be made in advance, along with some not-so-secret tips, like how leveling works for later. I think she liked me too, which made the excruciating aching in my stomach all the more bitter. She deemed I was not meant for her coveting as a Chosen as well, though I did express my intent on other forms of bonding once I reached her power level. She snickered, but never gave an affirmative ¡®no¡¯ to the idea.


    The next God was no different in terms of internal ruptures upon arrival, but they were far less interesting as well. They droned on and on about the duty of man to justice, right from wrong, good versus evil, yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, if his horse was any higher I think he¡¯d escape the infinite vacuum of space, and ascend to a new plane entirely.


    ¡°Maybe our integration just triggered because he got laid.¡± I thought to myself, which he apparently could hear too, because I was immediately back in my meditation spot following an outraged look forming on his face. Truthfully, I held no regrets given the outcome. I sat down, and just started to open up my third-eye, when I once again felt the sensation of being elsewhere than before shutting my eyes. It was time for fight number 69.


    Nice.


    The stature of those I¡¯d fought the last few fights had changed from generally middling on average to absolute specimens, and this guy was no exception. Quite the contrary in fact, standing at probably 6¡¯10, 290 pounds of muscle that made his heavy plating look like my light armor. He held two hammers with comically large hammerheads in a rectangular shape, and wore a thick, oval shaped metal helmet, with bull horns sticking out the sides facing up tilting slightly forward. His long dark beard and mustache, along with his eyes and jaw, were all that could be seen through his helmet that covered down the bridge of his nose. This guy was utterly massive.


    ¡°You¡¯re Tom, right? My God told me about you, said you got a tummy ache and hit on her before getting sent back empty handed. Care to explain?¡±


    Damn, she didn¡¯t have to talk trash about me behind my back like that. Cold hearts in the heavens, I suppose.


    ¡°No, no not really. If she sticks with you after this though, be sure to let her know I¡¯m open to an apology in the form of dinner and some drinks by the fireplace. Show her R&B music too, save me some time.¡±


    Please, I¡¯m nothing if not persistent. Besides, it¡¯s all in the eyes, and hers were glowing. They might just do that, but it was different.


    ¡°Alright smart ass, do your little dance so I can kill you quickly, slots for the top 25 are closing up quick.¡±


    Top 25? We¡¯re almost done?!


    Maintaining composure, after much practice with unpleasant surprises by now, I responded confidently.


    ¡°Relax meathead, you have to kill the people before they aren¡¯t here anymore.¡±


    ¡°YOU relax pencil neck, they¡¯ve been blipping people mid-battle lately. I just saw a pair of snoozers get removed together over at the Pugilist arena. What they get for pulling guard on each other at a striking arena.¡±


    Concerned was putting it mildly, as the news of expedited matches birthed a renewed sense of urgency. I shuttered recalling I was still 6 away from my own 75th match, including this absolute unit. My only hope was that everyone got an even 100 matches in total to prove themselves. Evidently, I¡¯d been lollygagging.


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    I had to focus up now, no time to feel sorry for myself, another conclusion I learned was best to arrive at sooner than later.


    ¡°Best not waste time then big man, show me yours I¡¯ll show you mine.¡±


    The sound of metal boots clapping onto the ground as he jogged forward, shoulders squared to me, beginning a low rumble that would crescendo to a roar. He exploded upward going for a double slam from above his head, aiming for mine.


    I Water Stepped backwards a few feet. His left hammer slammed into the floor, causing my vision to shake from the sound, but by the time my eyes refocused his hand wasn¡¯t clasped on its handle. 40 pounds of steel appeared barreling towards my temple from the left, forcing me to block instead of dodge. My Wakizashi contacted the hammer head at an angle in hopes I could sheath the blow a bit to minimize the force, but his hammer was too blunted and wide for it to work properly. Blood trickling from my ringing ear down the left side of my neck, I gathered my bearing¡¯s feet opposite to where I was struck.


    Okay, so you¡¯re quick too. No amateur could close the distance so fast, he must¡¯ve been trained. If not in fighting, the body control alone to pull this feat at his size was nothing short of incredible. It implied the sum of strength and speed outmatched mine, indicating I wasn¡¯t going to just athlete my way through this one.


    ¡°Not bad, big guy. Hope you got a few more tricks, being quick is nothing new to me.¡±


    His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared as he snarled, ¡°You should be dead already you little shit.¡±


    ¡°You should be nicer, who¡¯s going to clean your helmet or help you brush your teeth after this buddy? Don¡¯t you want ¡®fwends¡¯.¡± I said, puffing out my bottom lip.


    ¡°You callin¡¯ me slow?¡±


    ¡°No, I just said you¡¯re quick.¡± He seemed to relax a bit.


    ¡°I also said you¡¯re fucking stupid, thanks for proving my point though. Poetic you kn-, oh sorry, so poems are like songs. Y¡¯know, ¡®A B C D-¡®¡°


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna KILL YOU¡± bellowed the mighty man-baby, leaping at me with a wild swipe of one hammer I dodged easily due to its telegraphed nature. He immediately followed with. Flurry of violent strikes, contorting aggressively as he leaned into every attack with his all. I stabbed quickly into his alternating lead shoulders after each swing pulverized all air that had stood before it.


    Being outmatched physically had more than its unfair share of disadvantages, no question about it. The thing is, I¡¯d never been the most athletic guy in the gym. Not the fastest, nor the strongest, but I refused to be content with middling-skill levels, mediocre. Consequently, the majority of my skill based activities, from sports through my early years, to fighting, involved facing somebody either more gifted or further developed physically.


    Repeatedly, I¡¯d follow the same recipe they were given. Cyclically coming up just short. It wasn¡¯t until I decided to use tactics my mind developed that didn¡¯t rely solely on being quicker, faster, or even better than the other person. All I needed was one real good shot, and their superiority in all regards are rendered irrelevant. No one could train their brain to keep you awake after enough trauma. No one was perfect, infallible, and because I grew a propensity to win more often, no one was special either.


    Our dance of stab until he was too spent to fight, only to insult his intellect, reviving his ambition outright went on for a few rounds, until he went completely ballistic. Slamming his hammers on the ground beneath him, I saw a dim-blue hue puff into the air surrounding his tantrum smashing. The hammers fired like pistons for a solid 8 seconds straight before he came to a seething stance, the mist now all around him.


    No words. No quips. Deep blue eyes now terribly bloodshot, vessels protruding in patterns similar to a lightning bolt. No, there were far too many crossing patterns, it was more like webs. Sweat beaded off his face, his beard soaked in a mixture of said sweat and saliva. Blood covered the length of his shoulders. No-Face did this guy dirty by not giving him big enough armor. Then again, he was a bit of a mouth breather. How else could one fall for the same thing over and ov-


    POP!


    Vision returned about the same time the sound of wind blowing around me awoke me, the crunching sounds and ringing ears settled in only after I bounced across the arena in a rag doll. I tried to pop up, but the only ¡®popping¡¯ happening at this moment was my ankle, and jaw bone whenever I tried to move it.


    Karma.


    Delirium faded, and I shifted my thoughts from whimsy to damage assessment, applying weight slowly onto my bad ankle.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re still fucking alive. What are you, some kind of rodent?¡±


    Easy buddy.


    He strolled over, now 6 feet away at a slow pace, twirling his hammers as he gloated, ¡°You know, I come from nothing. I grew up a nobody, on a farm in buttfuck nowhere, with nothing to do but fight. I used to run away from guys who picked on my smarts, like you.¡±


    Now he was beside me, lifting me by armor like a kitten¡¯s nape in his hand. My head screamed in pain as I opened my eyes to meet his gaze.


    ¡°That was until I got a little older, and kept getting bigger than all of them. Then? It was my turn.¡±


    Great, another fucking psychopath.


    I had to think quickly, think back to my training for anything I could do here.


    ¡°Everyday, before all of this? I had to be careful who I hurt, no matter how mean they were. Now I don¡¯t, the creepy suit guy said so.¡±


    Fucking think Tom. What would Korbin say to you right now seeing you like thi-


    Of course.


    ¡°Hey asshole, you gonna talk all day or kill me? Frankly, I can¡¯t tolerate your stupid bullshit anymore.¡± Words flowing freely from my swollen face with a viperous tone as he held me hovering a few inches off the ground. He headbutted me, breaking my nose instantly. His head felt like a goddamn stone but, heavy is the head that wears his prey.


    ¡°Oh I¡¯m gonna find you after this, you little shit. See ya soon.¡± With that, he reared back his arm to complete his little execution ritual, but I knew when he was going to swing as soon as his hip twisted, sending force up his lats and arms providing power for his wind-up. His hips snapped back, and my peripherals felt ignited with energy, as I focused all of my will into finding just the right spot.


    Following the Flow from his shoulder, it worked its way in a U-shape following his swiping strike. Time slightly slowed as Water Stance activated, increasing my agility and perception, giving me my window to track the energy diligently. The hammer was nearing contact with its insane width all the same, but I had to time this perfectly. Finally, it was about to pass his bicep over into his elbow, when I kicked my left leg back and right leg forward, twisting my hips into a right handed palm strike into the pit of his elbow.


    His elbow flailed for a moment, before all the energy that traveled such a journey to reach this point flipped on itself, sending it in the direct opposite path it had come from. He clearly had zero expectation to meet any meaningful resistance, making the sudden shift in balance make his knees buckle as he fell beside me. Without hesitation, I grasped a Wakizashi and rolled into a full mount on top of him with my knees pressed on his elbows the moment he hit the floor, and thrusted my blade anywhere I saw cracks.


    When he stopped squirming, I used the bottom of my hilt to strike the nose guard on his helmet, over and over again with all of my strength. Blood splattered more with each strike, the sound of bones and metal crunching in concert in succession. Finally, after his nose appeared completely inside out, he disappeared from my grasp. Testing my ankle and opening and shutting my jaw, I finally opened my eyes again, to see the familiar few challengers waiting their turn.


    Holy shit, that was way too close.


    I shuffled to my meditation spot, my head no longer pounding but spinning all the same. How did I win again? It was such a blur, I had to really sit down and place myself back into my own shoes of a mere 30 seconds ago max. It felt so silly, then again instant healing was silly, but brain trauma was serious. Still, a single moment hung heavily in my mind, when I was literally hung up by my armor.


    I realized something.


    I felt half-awake, yet present. The feeling was peculiar upon recollection, but progressed into why I was trying to remember; the winning strike. I remembered my training with Korbin, after having trouble keeping my guard strong against his much heavier blows. It was the same technique I used at that moment. I tracked his flow through his body, until it reached a Flow Point.


    Flow Points are places in which flow is the most vulnerable to alterations, and typically very easy to injure its area very badly if you¡¯re not careful. I played the energy ricocheting back the direction from whence it came, noticing how unprepared he had been. He had over 130 pounds on me, yet my very quick hand strike with little to no power completely cost him the match and, technically, his life there. Quickly, I yearned to replicate this action. Not long after fight 70 began, where I promptly spammed Flow Point strikes until the brass knuckled pugilist completely gave up all together. After the mercy kill, came the fight that brought to life the fruits of my labor.


    He was a middle aged man, probably in his early 40¡¯s, sitting a few inches shorter than me, with a clean shaven face. He wore the classical colosseum warrior outfit, with the Greek looking sword to prove it. Seeing my gaze fixed on his weapon, he lifted it to his face.


    ¡°I see you¡¯ve taken interest in my short sword. It¡¯s Mycenaean, a fine piece of bronze craftsmanship. Allow me to introduce myself.¡±


    He placed his arm bent at his stomach and bowed.


    ¡°I am Kota, Warrior of Will, and my spirit is infallible. I warn you, this will not go well for you, warrior. Please, do me the honor of knowing your n-¡°


    ¡°Tom. I-it¡¯s Tom, bro. We doing this orr¡­?¡±


    Kota¡¯s smile was unwavering.


    ¡°Ah, yes, Tom! It¡¯s been a pleasure. Right then, shall we?¡±


    Readying his stance, Kota appeared poised to strike at any moment. His eyes locked onto me, his focus palpably strong. Seeing his stance, how sure he looked in himself, the vigor in which he boasted his assumed class was truly¡­depressing. I really hated to be ¡®that guy¡¯, but already his stance looked terrible. Before I could fully pick it apart internally, he shuffled forward, nearly tripping on his own foot. Yet, before he planted his feet again, his body was suddenly much closer, prompting me to strike his shoulder, hitting a Flow Point and sending him tumbling.


    Staggering to his feet, he fixed his helmet that had spun crooked on his head, and readied himself once more in his home-brewed stance. Once more, he made the first move of the exchange, this time leaping forward for a two handed downward strike. I considered blocking it, but thought better than to waste the opportunity to try hitting a flow point with my foot.


    Raising my knee, I extended my leg, aimed for his hip. Immediately, his body sank in on itself as he crumbled, folding on his ass like a lawn chair. Wincing, he stood back up, a bit slower this time.


    ¡°You¡¯re fast, Tom. But you¡¯re not my first challenge here, and I would have it no other way. Without you, I¡¯d have no opportunity to test my own Will. Because of foes like you, my skills have been put to the grindstone, my body mangled and thrashed. Arms broken, fingers lost, yet time and time again, I arose victorious. This will be no different.¡±


    ¡°¡­uh, okay. Whatever dude.¡±


    Kota lunged forward, attempting to outright impale me through my ¡®oh so worthy¡¯ heart. Once more, my foot smashed into him, this time onto the shoulder he intended to stab me on. His body spun in a full circle before his legs got tied up together during his cyclone-activities, and he fell to the ground once more, hard.


    Groaning, he forced himself up yet again, his shoulder popping as he forced it back into place.


    ¡°Your defenses are impressive, but not impregnable!¡± He shouted, as he charged once more. For the next, if memory serves me, 18 exchanges we followed the same pattern. Kota attacks, I hit one of the myriad of flow points in which the human body possesses that their kinetic energy traveled, and he¡¯d tumble wildly onto the ground. After a struggle, he¡¯d clamor back to his feet, drop a self empowering monologue, and the cycle had begun anew.


    After number 19, however, exhaustion began to win over his body, even if his mind hadn¡¯t caught on yet. Through heavy breaths, he spoke once more.


    ¡°I must¡­say, Tom. You are¡­by far m-¡­my greatest challenge yet.¡±


    I stepped back, straightening my posture and lowering my guard.


    ¡°You need a sec, Kota?¡±


    He stood there a moment, debating inwardly, before hunching over placing his hands onto his knees.


    ¡°No no go ahead, take a breather.¡± I said through a grin, feeling in the other shoes of my own trainer for a change. After some heavy panting, Kota inhaled deeply as he straightened up, placing his hands on his head.


    ¡°Alright!¡± He announced, clapping his hands and bouncing a bit before picking up his sword.


    ¡°Prepare yourself, Tom. Your cowardice ways of avoiding my attacks will not last lo-¡°


    ¡°The fuck did you just call me?¡± I said, angrily cutting his normal monologue short this time.


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t remember calling you anyt-¡°


    ¡°My ¡®cowardice ways¡¯?! Tell me, how many times do you think I could ha- ohhh you motherfucker trying to talk shit right now.¡±


    The concept of me being a fucking coward for not killing this self-help content creator ass dork was beyond insulting. That, and I was getting pretty tuckered out to be completely transparent. He didn¡¯t have to know that though.


    ¡°Look, how about this. You come at me, and if I block it again, I won¡¯t just stand still. Then you can show me the full power of your mighty will much sooner. Deal?¡±


    Kota gave a toothy grin before responding.


    ¡°Heh, your confidence will be your undoing To-¡°


    ¡°Whatever dude, fucking deal or not?¡±


    Kota nodded, and raised his sword once more. In now terribly typical Kota fashion, he dove at me with his sword, aiming now for my neck with a wide slash. Quickly locating where the power came from on his body, in this case his hips since his legs were in the air already, I tracked up where it ought to travel, landing on the now black and blue pit of his elbow. With another palm strike to the Flow Point now battered and abused, his arm cracked inside, causing him to shrill in pain.


    The sound of his screams reminded me of the guy with chain blades, resulting in a twitch reaction sending my Wakizashi straight through his chest, piercing his warrior''s heart. Kota looked up at me, utterly stunned by the completely inevitable and totally predictable outcome.


    ¡°This is not the end, Tom. Thank you, for showing me I¡¯ve much room to grow, I will be seeing you so-¡°


    I decapitated him, having reached my limit for his willpower bullshit for one day. After teleporting out of the arena and finding my meditation spot, I spent a few moments reviewing the intricacies of the move I¡¯d spent the last two fights almost exclusively using. Not long after, I was rewarded for all of my trouble.


    *SKILL ACQUIRED*- > Flow Inverse (uncommon) - when activated, the user will respond to an attack with one of their own, as water needs no defense where it can simply fill where it must go. User strikes a Flow Point, reversing the Flow of his opponent¡¯s movements completely. Effectiveness varies based on % advantage in agility. +2 agility, +4 perception when active.


    Once again, I birthed a convoluted skill, this time it not only boosted perception, a stat I¡¯d yet to find any way to increase, was uncommon. My very first home brewed uncommon skill, I couldn¡¯t be more easily distracted from nearly dying and losing any hope at attaining a Patron before the Tutorial.


    All it takes is progress, the stipulations are a constant, out of my control, and therefore irrelevant. My care lay with winning loyally, I¡¯ve come too far now. Feeling brand new once again, my thoughts drifted to my many fights, scouring for any missed chances for growth until my next fight commences.


    Only 30 more, how much worse could it really get from here?

 Chapter: 9 Day 0 - Beautys The Beast

    Meditation always felt like it was cut miserably short by a notification, this one pinging after fight 89. It was absolutely uncanny it took me 80+ to consider I¡¯d yet to sleep, eat, or drink any water at all. The thought wrought a yearning for a gallon of ice cold water at my fingertips.


    It was torturous, seeing the water dance just out of my reach. Yet mages of my affinity could bend the water in the air into larger pools, apparently using it to throw spells that usually pittered or acted as a means of defense. My love for water went beyond elemental fighting concepts. Quite frankly, I loved feeling hydrated.


    Call it what you will, it was an unequivocal fact humans constantly needed to drink water to survive, and double the daily minimum if you wished to be active or develop your body well. So to say the overwhelming shame that flooded my very spirit at knowing I¡¯d neglected life¡¯s liquid so blatantly was momentarily suffocating. Only after a bit of self deprecation did I consider maybe they auto-fed and watered us after each fight. Beginning to forgive my gross negligence, I finally opened my new notification. The Gods were muted until further notice, so this had to be of much importance.


    CONGRATULATIONS


    You have made it to the Top 10 of your world¡¯s greatest prospects! The following rewards will be available after the commencement of your tutorial:


    10,000 Tutorial Points.


    Title unlocked -> Of Earth¡¯s Finest - You¡¯ve proven yourself among the pinnacle of your worlds greatest warriors before even leveling up.


    +5% to all stats.


    Reveling in my hard work, I felt the prodding of annoyance reading the stipulations of when I¡¯d receive my rewards. Thinking more on it, the likelihood of a top 5, 3, 2, and/or Champion of the whole tournament getting more prestigious Titles and rewards justified the wait. Besides, it would be strange to make the Top 10 fighters of your planet and not get some sort¡¯ve recognition, level 1 be damned.


    I was about to close my notifications when another one appeared, this one with a header that read, *click to join Earth¡¯s finalists tournament*.


    For a second, I thought I was getting the last of humanities spam emails funneled to my mind, but my intuition told me this was important given the timing. I clicked hoping for more information, only to find my notifications closed. Instead, I found myself in a smaller, far more minimalistic arena, surrounded by 9 other contestants with 2 I recognized immediately.


    ¡°Korbin? I figured I¡¯d see you sooner or later.¡±


    Hands were shaken. Not like old people.


    ¡°How was it over at the fire arena? You run into any monsters over there?¡±


    Part of me hoped he found some kind of competition, many Gods know by now I¡¯ve had my fair share of close calls, but they bore some of the sweetest of fruitful progr-


    ¡°Nah oh dude, that shit was boring. As. Fuck,¡± Korbin¡¯s body physically deflated as he recalled his fights.


    ¡°Most of the fighters there just charged at me. I kind of had to make fun out of an overly repetitive situation. What about you, that light armor land you any close calls?¡±


    Smirking as I responded, ¡°Quite honestly, it served me well. Sure, I could¡¯ve used some extra cushion for a few tumbles here and there, but I handled myself.¡±


    He looked at me, squinting a moment, before smiling as he said inquisitively, ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡± His eyes darted down for a moment before widening in an act of elated realization I had indeed almost died at some point in this tournament.


    ¡°Aaahhh you totally almost died. Tell me about it, what happened?! Did you go to Water Step and trip onto a spearhead or something?¡±


    He asked, but I knew he needed a moment to thoroughly enjoy his questioning as he cackled, his hand resting on my shoulder. After about 5-7 seconds of the giggles, he straightened up and looked at me expectantly once more.


    ¡°I have 4 skills.¡±


    Fuck it, we¡¯re bringing the petty guns.


    Korbin proceeded to unpack his own artillery, by mocking me in a nasty voice while protruding his lower jaw down and outward.


    ¡°¡®Meh meh meh, my name¡¯s Tom. Meh meh meh, I have 4 skills. Meh meh meh, I almost died.¡¯¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help bursting out in a hardy laugh. Sure, it was at my expense, but I got my licks in. Besides, he didn¡¯t say how many skills he¡¯s got yet.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t use it as an excuse when I see you after this for why I finally beat you.¡±


    Korbin grinned a toothy smile at the last part,


    ¡°Emphasis on ¡®finally¡¯.¡±


    After a few more minutes of lightly insulting each other¡¯s existence, I peered about the small crowd that remained. That¡¯s when I saw the blonde once more, only I didn¡¯t have to stare intently from hundreds of feet away to get a glance at her details.


    She had a thin short sword on her side, and wore a leather armor set. I guess the system is a pig, because her bosom was covered by her undershirt better than the shoe strings that connected the leathers at her chest. I say this not knowing if they offered a variety of options in fashion myself, but Korbin already gave me shit about that. Her straight platinum blonde hair was up in a bun, and her eyes a deep baby blue. For the sake of respectfulness, she was in excellent shape.


    For the sake of honesty, she was by far the hottest woman I¡¯d ever seen in my life, and the internet existed for the entirety of it. She wore a determined look in her eye, but her face was currently in the shape of affability, stopping by each remaining contestant.


    There was an aura of decisiveness in her people-hopping ,and I kept getting the feeling I was having lasers burned into the back of my head whenever I turned back to Korbin. Of course, when I turned to look for her, Korbin let me hear it if I couldn¡¯t feel his disapproving glare.


    A schemer. Great, now there¡¯s 2 here.


    A prompt expanded before my vision automatically, and an audio played in my head but, everyone else seemed to react as surprised as I did when the unnaturally soothing female voice began speaking.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Welcome. You have reached the Finalists Tournament for your planet. Congratulations.¡±


    Through my peripherals, I noticed everyone¡¯s reactions being fairly similar; apathy. We were all here because we wanted to win it all, not to reach some self servicing ¡®first in your heart¡¯ rank and call it a day. It had to have been at least 3 days now, and no one¡¯s slept. Didn¡¯t need to, I guess, but I knew I missed it.


    ¡°The tournament will proceed as prior for the next round, only you will not receive any passive boosts for being in an arena in alignment with your affinity. This also means there will be no inherent mana of any one affinity, but a mixture of them all at once. Each fight will be viewed one by one, until Earth has its 29th Universe¡¯s top prospect. Good luck contestants, we¡¯re ALL watching!¡±


    Okay, eerie way to end that.


    Sure we all knew everyone was watching everywhere there is a place to apparently, but reminding us like that was super off putting. Not to mention she explicitly said this was only the rules for this round. Feelings 70 something fights-old of being a rat in a maze for whatever put us here creeped back into my mind, but I pushed them aside.


    I¡¯ll soon have plenty of time to ruminate on the bullshit morality of ¡®The System¡¯ later, right now it was time to win. Even if I did miss being surrounded by the crashing waves, the smell of fresh water dancing along the rocky walls surrounding the arena.


    It felt so pure, the air even tasted good. Now I can feel the same familiar feeling hanging in the air, but it was far less potent, and in constant battle with a plethora of other energies for marginal supremacy. A grandiose old clock ticking-sound echoed through the arena, rumbling the organs in my body with each passing second.


    After a countdown of 6, I figured this was a 10 count. How fun. The ticks hit 8, and I turned over to Korbin, and for the first time I thought I saw a glint of worry. Tick number 9 sounded, and right before I could put up a reassuring ¡®fist bump¡¯ gesture, his fist beat mine, only with his middle finger extended in front of a devious grin. His cackle was interrupted by the 10th tick, followed by a long silence.


    Everyone surveyed the room, poised for something to happen, someone to move, anything.


    The ambient sound of heartbeats was barely audible, when a short high pitch beep sounded. Just as quickly as the silence broke, 7 other contestants breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of seeing a skinny man in a big black cloth outfit that looked strikingly like mourning clothes had been blipped in the ring. Directly opposite to him was the blonde.


    Korbin leaned forward for a better view. ¡°Not gonna lie, I see why you missed the introduction hologram. Try not to let it distract you too bad.¡± Korbin said, slapping my chest with the back of his hand after finishing his unsolicited words of wisdom. My attention was clung far tighter to why she¡¯s here. I¡¯d heard one horror story so far of her turning someone at the metal arena into ¡®red mist¡¯ but I¡¯d done that before fight 40.


    ¡°Hey, blonde lady! My buddy thinks you¡¯re hot!¡±


    Thank you, Korbin.


    Anyways, odds were favorable that everyone had at some point won in dominating fashion very early on. The last 30-ish had yielded notably stiffer competition, and were exponentially more brutal in nature. In fairness, I hadn¡¯t seen how it went in any other fight arenas though. For all I know, some Pacifist God found their Chosen 5 hours ago. They may even dwarf our power levels with sheer bullshit, like the old Healer I had to¡­help die.


    The other guy in the Nun''s attire carried with him a big scythe, and I suddenly felt like this guy''s cosplay was a little on the nose.


    ¡°Hello, young lady. My name is Haden.¡± Whispered the oddball, in a guttural tone.


    ¡°I will be sure to treat you with the utmost care, even if I don¡¯t get to keep you after, yet.¡±


    Ookay¡­


    ¡°Ugh, why do I always get the socially awkward creeps?¡± The blonde sighed, disparagingly.


    ¡°Hold your tongue, harlot.¡± Snapped back the creepy dork. Korbin through his hands up in adopted disappointment,


    ¡°¡®Harlot¡¯ who the fuck..?¡±, he exclaimed with a furrowed brow, looking around the room for confirmation this guy was in fact a weirdo.


    Blonde apparently had enough creeper energy already, as she skipped any further dialogue options and went straight to weapons drawn.


    Haden, God of the Socially Inept followed in kind, only he clearly wasn¡¯t nearly as chivalrous as he pretended, because he swung first. His blade cut through the air at a sideways angle, his hands sliding along the pole arm to extend its range, though he still wasn¡¯t quite close enough to hit. Still, he followed his swing, with a deep-red blade of energy projecting out of his Scythe at the blonde prodigy.


    For a melee attack, he was completely out of range. For a ranged attack, however, he was at the equivalent of pressing your forehead on the barrel of a 12 gauge, because there was no way she had time to dodg-¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­so after she avoided his red energy blade, leaping from a stationary position but 5 feet from Haden, her body contorted sideways as his attack that initially came at her head had curved now from the trajectory his Scythe released it, only to pass by her spinning body now horizontal in air. Of course, she capped it off with the hero pose landing.


    Laughing in elation and holding his head, Korbin couldn¡¯t help but blurt out, ¡°Ho-hoooly shit that was cool.¡± Stunned, Haden gathered himself, and began a barrage of ranged energy bolts as he spun his Scythe almost like a bo staff. He perpetually moved forward while his Scythe spun at unnatural speed across and around his body, marching towards the blonde. All the while firing his dark red energy blades at scary speeds.


    His form was honestly incredible, and had he just cut his own tongue out before he got up there, I may have harbored a newfound respect for him. Unfortunately, he proved himself insidious to human progress with his outfit alone.


    Death? That¡¯s your gimmick? Fucking ¡®edgy¡¯ dude.


    My gaze panned back to the blonde¡¯s side of the arena, where she was moving in all kinds of directions with ease, dodging each attack narrowly.


    One shot in particular had been stacked closely behind two that had been aimed at her legs. She proceeded to leap up and out of the path of the first two energy blades. Simultaneously spinning her shoulders and hips while exploding her leg outward, she kicked a freaking laser.


    Watching intently, I noticed a fraction of a moment before the blondes boot made contact with the strange red energy an explosion triggered, causing my ears to once again ring, singing in the forbidden frequencies of disorientation. A second explosion sounded, prompting my eyes to lock back on to where she was, only to find her flying towards Haden with her non-kicking foot facing away.


    She hurled her sword forward, aiming for Haden¡¯s head. Before it could reach its deathly destination, sand formed beside Haden. With an inward gesture of her other hand, the sand flung up into Haden¡¯s face. Haden cringed, grasping his eyes, only for the sword to pierce into his hand and skull. The moment her feet landed however, his body dissipated into a fine black powder that moved in what looked like dark sand whisking around a few feet away, forming the outline of a humanoid shadow.


    ¡°That¡­was uncalled for, you bitch.¡±


    A voice sounding like a mixture between Haden¡¯s already off-putting voice and a demonic entity echoed through the arena, causing a few contestants to tremble a little.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be fooled, I fought a teleporting tank at the water arena. This guy¡¯s all bravado.¡± I told Korbin, leaning forward as the fight now moved a bit further from our immediate view. Blonde¡¯s body language hinted restlessness at the sight.


    ¡°Okay okay, now reform already. You¡¯re wasting our time, and I bet you can¡¯t afford to lose any right now.¡± The blonde said through a smirk and squinted eyes.


    ¡°Heheh, hahaHAHAHAHA!¡±


    With a genuinely terrifying cackle that shook the pit of my stomach, the Dark Sand Formation collapsed into a pile, slithering along the arena.


    It split into 4 piles, erecting 4 arms out of each. As if in concert, each hand formed 18 inch blades at their palms, and fired them towards the blonde. They traveled with a rounded darkness at its front, but as it passed my view the thin, razor sharp dark blade hid behind its parachute shaped hue.


    The blonde dodged the first 3, but the 4th grazed her shoulder. Yet, she let out a restrained yelp as it connected regardless, and her flesh around the cut was dark.


    Haden¡¯s eerie voice echoed from multiple directions.


    ¡°Yes, let death have its claim on you.¡±


    The blonde¡¯s face had looked defeated, crushed, as if this small wound completely incapacitated her.


    Almost like she was infected with some super poison as it breached her skin. He mentioned letting ¡®death¡¯ have a claim to her, and I hoped death wasn¡¯t an affinity. That¡¯s a bit much.


    The dark sand piles performed their greatest feat yet; reading the room. They came together from four angles, creating an ¡®X¡¯ shape as Haden¡¯s dark shape formed again. As soon as the entire pile came together as one, the blonde¡¯s face shot up from her downed position, revealing her shoulder being completely fine with a bit of sand dribbling off of it.


    That¡¯s when she launched her open hand into his chest-shaped mass, followed by an explosion of flames bursting out of the figures back. The hole in its midsection had been completely circular nearly a foot wide. You could see straight through him.


    The embers of the fiery attack reignited within the charred remains of the sandy figure, before spreading out across the rest of its body and sands resting where feet would stand.


    Then, Haden was gone, and the blonde blipped about 8 feet to my left. I peered over, and noticed for the first time she had accepted eye-contact. More than that, she held it, before winking with a grin and turning away to presumably meditate. I don¡¯t know, I figured everyone had to ponder their work, at the least. One thing was certain though.


    She was dangerous.

 Chapter: 10 Day 0 - Unexpected Certainties

    Several minutes had passed since the first fight, and the energy had shifted. Prior, the small crowd of earths elite chattered and teased one another, some openly relishing in the exclusivity of being here. The voice had given just enough praise to convince us that we were all the pinnacle of humanity. Now, that certainly was drowned out by millions of words the mutual silence had spoken. No one uttered a word. No one, except me and Korbin of course.


    ¡°So we¡¯re not gonna talk about how fucking weird that guy was? I¡¯m 90% certain he¡¯s you if you never got bitches. No, no wait that¡¯s you now.¡± Before I could retort, Korbin¡¯s eyes wandered behind me, then locked onto whatever they¡¯d spotted.


    He smiled, pointed at me, and put his finger in and out of his other hand''s thumb and inde-¡­you get the very vulgar picture. I didn¡¯t have to guess which of the three remaining female fighters he was looking at, but I turned around anyway.


    And cursed internally for having been so damn gullible.


    I was in front of a pillar, having shuffled close to talk openly with Korbin. My expression dropped as I turned back, only to see him now leaning at the edge of the lifted arena floor, smacking it while holding his chest. The quiet wheezing indicated he didn¡¯t know I looked back yet, but frankly it didn¡¯t matter either way.


    ¡°Ha ha, very fuckin funny. She might actually be a real problem, you know. Maybe try to be a bit less crass to her. You know, in case she wants to be allies?¡±


    His cheery face unchanging, he retorted,


    ¡°Hey, hey what did I do? Was I the one who missed all the crucial facts about this tournament staring at her ass? Oh, oh ok then. ¡±


    ¡°Hey, speaking of which, how exactly did getting here work? I mean, I figured we all got 100 fights total bu-¡° My question was cut short by Korbin.


    ¡°No, no we don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®no we don¡¯t¡¯?¡± I said.


    ¡°I mean no, there¡¯s no set number. The rankings are based on winning, yes, but the Gods rank you, with the strongest Gods having the biggest say in the vote. Didn¡¯t your Patron tell you all this?¡±


    Blood rushed to my face as I struggled to remain stoic. Unfortunately, my eyes gave me away. My face remained completely still. I didn¡¯t say anything stupid, but my damn eyes flared wide at the mention of a Patron.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡± Korbin said, a surprised smile forming on his face as he covered his mouth.


    ¡°No. Way. You¡¯re fuckin Godless too?! How the hell did you make it this far?¡±


    Frozen, I looked back with a confused expression, unable to answer.


    ¡°Seriously Tom, it¡¯s a voting system, if you have no God pushing for you hard, you¡¯re either really hot product, or someone¡¯s fucking with you. Someone really strong too.¡±


    My eyebrow shot up at this last bit, because that was way too concise.


    ¡°That makes sense¡­Hey, real quick though, how the fuck do you know that?¡±


    His grin widened.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m not a Godless loser, Tom. They have these things called mouths, I know it¡¯s crazy but it gets better.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah no I get it, they share information.¡±


    For fucks sake.


    What the hell do I have to do? Reaching the top 10 with no God felt like the natural progression to me. A few tough fights from other chosen had also indicated they weren¡¯t untouchable. Quite the opposite in fact.


    Yet having seen that first fight, the concepts and energy flying around, I understood almost none of it. How did I end up on the All-Star team while simultaneously going fucking undrafted?!


    Korbin¡¯s grin faded, replaced by a bit of concern.


    ¡°Look, there¡¯s plenty of time to get a God. You¡¯re in the top 10. Someone will pick you up.¡±


    ¡°See that¡¯s the thing, Korbin. I¡¯ve been picked up, dude. But each time I show up, my stomach feels like I swallowed live piranhas after filing their teeth sharper and starving them. Then they¡¯d say, ¡®oh, you don¡¯t belong to me¡¯ or ¡®I can¡¯t covet you, for you¡¯re already blah blah blah¡¯, not to mention some lame fucking justice dork even rejec-¡°


    It took a few pats before realizing my arm was being tapped lightly. My eyes trailed the hand up to Korbin. He had his other hand up, palm facing out to me, taking slow deep breaths as if to gesture ¡®stop and breathe.¡¯ Mimicking his deep, slowly drawn breaths and exhaling slowly a few times, he finally spoke.


    ¡°Gooood, breathe it out man. Relax. None of that sounds pleasant, but you won¡¯t solve anything freaking out about it, inward or outwardly.¡±


    My tensed shoulders relaxed, as did my arms I¡¯d realized were held upward, as if I was mad at my television or something. He was right, this was no time to pa-


    TICK


    Oh, oh excellent.


    ¡°Alright, just remember, Tom. Breathe, and stay at your pace.¡±


    TICK


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget to keep your damn lead hand up, you love to drop that shit.


    TICK


    ¡°Oh, and like, don¡¯t suck out there either. No Gods for suckas¡¯.¡±


    TICK


    ¡°I know Korbin, I know. Don¡¯t worry, I didn¡¯t get here letting my emotions win out there.¡±


    TICK


    ¡°Yes but you never left the water arena this is completely differe-¡°


    ¡°I know it¡¯s completely different but I¡¯ve spent 90 fights traini-¡°


    TICK


    ¡°I understand that Tom I¡¯m not saying you haven¡¯t gotten better I expect you t-¡°


    ¡°Okay and all I¡¯m saying is there¡¯s no need to soothe m-¡°


    ¡°Well you WONDER why I-¡°


    TICK


    ¡°..because this, Tom. This is wh-¡°


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that come on I¡¯m being serious right n-¡°


    ¡°HOW LONG have I been training you fo-¡°


    TICK


    ¡°¡­are you done now To-¡°


    ¡°Dude I was never starting what do y-


    TICK


    (beep)


    My hand was about to slam down my fist into my palm, as I was accenting¡­something important. My eyes blinked twice as the sudden change in my surrounding occurred to me. Looking at the crowd of contestants, I searched to see Korbin, wondering if he had still been yelling at the air not knowing I was gone. That was until a snapping noise came from in front of me.


    Peering over, my eyes bulged at the sight of my first opponent in the top 10. Just so happens, I found Korbin too.


    ¡°Damn¡­welp we both knew this would happen sooner or later, buddy.¡± Korbin said with a sigh.


    ¡°Just promise to keep it interesting, I don¡¯t want to find you were slacking out th-¡°


    The sound of my pair of Wakizashi hitting the arena floor interrupted his monologue. He looked at me, seeing my smug smile and furrowed brow, and understood instantly. As he dropped his sword, he also began removing his armor, revealing the home-wear he¡¯d been in before any of this. Naturally, I followed suit.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this old school.¡±


    Korbin activated a skill that amplified his fists with a bright orange glow, a move completely opposite to old school.


    ¡°Nope, that¡¯s on brand yeah. Okay.¡± My response was brief, because I decided to open things up myself. Having never divulged my skills, my excitement to flaunt my Water Steps to the guy who taught the technique to me in the first place was overpowering.


    Feeling the skill activated, and the water affinity in the air now flowing through me, I kept my peripherals on high alert for any sign of countering.


    To my surprise, he¡¯d yet to move, even as I closed the gap within 5 feet, a mistake I hadn¡¯t seen in over 40 fights at th-Stolen novel; please report.


    Oh yeah, he doesn¡¯t know that one either.


    Now overwhelmed with anticipation, I activated my Lightning Strike, confident it¡¯d work unarmed. I¡¯d used the technique with my fists before it became a skill with weapons, which was all I needed in this situation. I couldn¡¯t ponder too heavily and risk getting caught out. I planted my rear foot, readying the Flow on this side for the energy burst it was about to create, only with something special in mind.


    See, we¡¯d spar a lot this past year, and he¡¯s known my fighting style since he helped me begin development at the very start. This punch was one he¡¯d shown me, along with most all my other Water associated moves.


    The thing was, we often discussed the kind of moves that were in the realm of possibility, both for us particularly and humans in general. In theory, Flow leads to endless possibilities in terms of fighting or feats of athleticism in general, but our bodies couldn¡¯t possibly keep up. Feats like throws from insane leverage points, kill shots requiring inhuman precision, or what I would be attempting now.


    Exploding towards Korbin like a bolt to a lightning rod, he finally reacted honestly not having the speed to play possum.


    He moved his hand in position to catch the punch, his palms illuminated with a brilliant orange and white glow.


    Perfect.


    Flow traveled up my leg, and was now just past my hip. I just needed to be a little closer, to insure he¡¯d block this first jab. Time felt slowed as my arm barreled at Korbin covered in a purplish-blue hue.


    The momentum of my approach carried me a little less than 2 feet from Korbin as his arm extended to block my lead hand. Once my fist contacted his palm, however, he slid his hand to my wrist and clamped firmly, the pressure cutting blood circulation immediately.


    Gotcha.


    My rear hand flew around in a hooking motion with my palm facing outward, smacking into the pit of my elbow. Flow Inverse activated sending the energy back down my arm, ripping it free from Korbin¡¯s grasp.


    The Flow continued traveling down my side, releasing out the bottom of my heel as I released a sidekick with my lead leg. His ribs cracked under the piercing heel strike, sending a pop throughout my boot as he launched back l 7 feet through the air, sliding across the floor another 2.


    My body froze as the momentum of the kick spun me facing away from Korbin, hoping to reappear outside the arena. Realizing it wasn¡¯t happening, I turned and ran towards Korbin, now down on the ground. He kicked up, shooting to his feet while grabbing my wrist on the way up.


    Without missing a beat, he pulled me back toward him from attempting to step away, while an axe kick crashed down on the top of my head sending my face straight to the ground. His foot rested on the back of my head having pushed down to accelerate the fall.


    How the fuck is he fine.


    Korbin was many things, but among them was mortal. No one alive would continue being so after taking that kick. His rib cage should¡¯ve splintered sending fragments into his organs, causing mass internal bleeding. Instead, he threw himself upward, just to grapple me into one of the most embarrassing kicks to have landed on you.


    ¡°Ah damnit, I didn¡¯t mean to knock him out that fast.¡± Korbin grumbled standing over me


    I pushed my arms along the floor, sliding me just far enough to not get punted while standing up.


    ¡°Jeez Tom, how the hell are you awake?¡±


    ¡°Me?! I just fucking killed you!?¡±


    Korbin smiled and shrugged.


    ¡°What, me? Come oooon.¡±


    We both had equal points, though the confusion on the few onlookers'' faces indicated only we knew why. Firstly, I had no business being awake right now. Before the tournament, had Korbin axe kicked me with the force he used, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d know my own name for the next few hours.


    However, I¡¯d noticed most everybody was far more resistant than I thought possible. Sure, some more than others, but even the average Mage could take far more blood loss and injuries that would normally be considered fatal. On average, that is.


    That being said, every finalist knew what force it took to absolutely decimate a weaker foe. Considering their guffaws and gasps however, they never been fought someone like me, Korbin, or the blonde who watched on stoically.


    Plus, nothing would be more gratifying than beating Korbin here, truly beating him for the first time. That last kick had been the strongest attack I¡¯d used yet, in fact so great a notification pinged through my head right after. Yet he looked totally composed, wordlessly declaring he wasn¡¯t going to make this easy.


    Korbin whistled, waving his hand at me.


    ¡°Yoo-hoo, you good, Tom?¡±


    Blinking quickly, my focus locked back into the fight.


    ¡°No go ahead you take a sec, I¡¯m sure the Gods wo-¡°


    I quickly Water Stepped entering my range of attacks, causing him to drop into stance.


    ¡°We¡¯re being sneaky now? We just got started.¡± He snickered.


    Not missing a beat, Korbin raised his rear knee, swinging it forward quickly.


    Feign.


    I stepped to the opposite side with my guard by my face, knowing damn well what he was doing. This exact fake had already caused me enough physical and, frankly, mental pain during training for a lifetime. It had burned into my memories.


    On queue, his raised knee kicked out behind him toward the ground, twisting his hips and swinging his opposite fist straight for my head. A Flow Inverse at the pit of his elbow sent his arm flailing to the side.


    He didn¡¯t fall though, giving me pause charging my Lightning Strike to capitalize.


    ¡°Is that a Flow Point skill?! That¡¯s fuckin¡¯ sick!¡± Korbin hollered, giddily. Nodding with a quick smile, I stepped forward again, trying to ignore the fact he didn¡¯t completely lose his bearings like the Touchy Hammer Dork and friends. Poking with jabs, my priority was keeping him at range, as my ready advantage was integral to winning any exchanges during training.


    With Korbin¡¯s hands glowing like two mini sun¡¯s that emitted a blazing heat up close, odds are he has some new tricks and refined older ones too. Letting him use them first was not in my budget, so I tried to keep his mind on what we knew each other knew.


    The next few exchanges were spent in a momentous deadlock. Each time one of my attacks slipped through, he¡¯d react as if he wanted me to hit him so he could get closer. With every counter he threw awaited a Flow Inverse strike however, leaving no clear winner for what felt like a couple minutes. In reality, it had only been around 15-20 seconds.


    Shuffling out and parrying another strike with Flow Inverse, a glint of frustration flashed over Korbin¡¯s face. Stepping to the side, a devious smile quickly followed.


    ¡°Still paying no mind to your footing I see.¡±


    What?


    My eyes glanced down, only to fire back up seeing his leg flick forward. He was by no means in range to kick, which is why my own Wakizashi he slipped his foot under flying toward my face hadn¡¯t caught me completely off guard.


    Not to say I¡¯d expected that per se, ripping out my weapon from my shoulder before tossing it to the side paid homage to that, but he was an avid collector of rat behavior. I¡¯d seen a fair share of his sneaky attacks enough to at least expect them subconsciously, which I¡¯d done enough to avoid getting impaled through my neck.


    He never needed to use these kinds of tactics on me in serious sparring before though, so I took it as a showing of respect. That didn¡¯t mean I wouldn¡¯t call him out for it.


    ¡°Really? You¡¯re gonna throw my sword at me, during an unarmed fight?¡±


    Korbin repeated my question, only in a far more annoying voice with his face scrunched and tongue slightly out.


    ¡°¡­fair enough.¡±


    Shuffling back into battle, I was greeted immediately with one of his patented roundhouse kicks of fucking death. Leaning my shoulder back to avoid the roundhouse kick from his lead foot, I lifted my rear leg, swinging with the momentum of my level change with it aimed for Korbin¡¯s midsection. I felt my leg make purchase with his chest, but only after I¡¯d snapped the force of the kick, dampening its damage.


    Looking down, my face dropped for a split second noticing he¡¯d shuffled closer as he brought back down his leg without me noticing. My face dropped as he wrapped my leg firmly under his armpit, his leg kicking my leg still standing out from under me in a sweeping motion.


    Oxygen welcomed its opportunity for freedom from my lungs as I smashed onto the ground, but I couldn¡¯t afford to wait for it to come home, as I rolled back to my feet breathlessly.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m nice. That¡¯s the only one I¡¯m giving you.¡± Korbin said in a much quieter, serious tone through his guard hands. I¡¯d heard that sentence many times before.


    Way too many times.


    I Water Stepped forward, dismissing my mortal dependence on air, and stomped my heel into his inner thigh. His eyes shot open, indicating I hit the fragile cluster of muscle I¡¯d aimed at. My leg slid over and slammed to the ground behind his knee. My rear fist flew at a curving diagonal path, a deep thump sounding as my first knuckle smashed into his jaw.


    Korbin stumbled, where I then water stepped to the side of him about a foot away. My hips spun back around, my rear leg rifling into Korbin¡¯s sternum as my leg muscles extended in concert. His body lifted a few feet back before he stumbled catching his footing.


    Korbin stared at me with an inquisitive look. Now with a hint of anger in his eyes, he spoke.


    ¡°Oh ok, we¡¯re doing spinny-shit now? Alright, say less.¡±


    Immediately he stepped back into range, putting his lead hand forward in a punching motion. Being prithee to his martially deceitful ways, I stepped back, putting my head out of range and keeping my hands free for the real attack. Once again his initial attack drifted away, his hips leaning forward and twisting as his lead leg swung towards my quid muscle.


    I lifted my knee, aiming it at his shin as he attacked, ready to ¡®check¡¯ his kick. He ought to know from all the leg kicks I¡¯d sustained from him while learning how to check that this wouldn¡¯t work.


    It wouldn¡¯t have, if he¡¯d thrown the kick. Instead, he planted the foot, grabbing my lead wrist with the same hand he pretended to punch me with. Using me as leverage, he spun around rolling across my back, where a loud CRACK interrupted my vision for a moment. Turning around and finally focusing, Korbin was standing still where he¡¯d hit me, his elbow frozen in air about head height to me. He¡¯d Spinning Elbowed me.


    How did I not see that coming?


    ¡°Gotcha!¡± Korbin hollered in triumph. Sliding his foot, he twisted his hips, then shot forward, in a fucking water step, and tried to kick me in the chest to send me tumbling back once more.


    Momentarily insulted, I Water Stepped to the side, shocked at how narrow of a miss his kick actually was. Ignoring my miscalculation, I swung my back leg around for a head kick while spinning on the other, a kicking form he¡¯d taught me himself. He swayed opposite to the kick to avoid its range, prompting me to kick down hard with the stored Flow I was building in my knee during the step, activating Lighting Strike. My rear fist illuminated with its bright purple hue connected to his jaw once again.


    For the first time, my strike drew blood from his lip. He wiped his face and looked at his hand, his demeanor shifting as he focused on it.


    ¡°That hurt. You fucking hurt me.¡±


    He looked up at me, his eyebrows curved downward, hanging just above his eagle-like stare as his jaw cracked a few times as he clinched hard. I chuckled.


    ¡°First time for everyth-¡°


    Korbin¡¯s entire body erupted in the same bright orange flames that covered his hands. His eyes changed from green with orange around the pupil, to a bright golden-orange that engulfed his entire eye socket.


    He exploded toward me with inhuman speed. I narrowly dodged his kick to the chest, twisting my shoulders around his foot when he snagged my wrist passing by and swung off it to get to my back. His hand slid up from my wrist, but I knew if his other arm locked under my chin, I¡¯d go out looking like a sweaty purple grape in his choke.


    I swung my elbow into his arm that was snaking to my neck, activating Flow Inverse redirecting its constrictive pressure out. Twisting, my fist connected to his jaw, but his face hadn¡¯t even recoiled on impact indicating he didn¡¯t care overly much.


    Grabbing my shoulder, he stomped and shoved one side of me back with surprising force. I began questioning my chances of getting out of this alive, seeing as he¡¯s not doing shit I¡¯d ever seen him do before, not a shred of enjoyment in his eyes.


    Before, it felt like any other spar. Back and forth, counters and countering that counter, chasing finally being able to say ¡°I can beat you¡±. Not that I would always win, but that I just fucking could. The difference today was, for the first time I really, really believed I could.


    Newfound confidence that screamed for me to plant my foot, and surprise him by going on the offensive before he can teach me a new combo first hand right now. Rocketing off my feet, I saw my path, and my fist ignited bright purple once more as my other hand grabbed his still-lowered lead wrist. So long as his guard¡¯s down, my hit will land, and the momentum¡¯s in my grasp.


    At least, it would¡¯ve been, had he not caught my fist with his rear hand. I never saw it move, yet there it was, crossed over the opposite side of his face from where its shoulder was connected. For the first time since he ignited like a ball of fire, he grinned.


    I felt my fingers snap in an excruciating cacophony of cracks and pops as he crushed them in his hand before twisting my wrist outwardly, breaking that as well. I winced over in pain, leaving an opening as he yanked my broken hand, pulling himself forward for a vicious elbow to my nose. The sound of my nose crumbling was mute compared to the ringing in my head that followed. My eyes welled, though not of sadness, but my sinuses getting violently impacted into my skull.


    Blinded, I reeled back, feeling my body and vision spinning in opposition. My weight leaned forward stumbling into a sideways ¡®L¡¯ shape to stay standing, when an arm wrapped over my neck, followed by the feeling of warmth on my right ear and back of the neck.


    Guillotine.


    His arms locked under my throat, and all I felt was a jerking motion as a pop sounded in my neck. Suddenly, I felt fine, and whipped up to change the tide, when I noticed white walls all around me.


    Faces surrounded me, a few familiar but I couldn¡¯t tell where from. It took seeing the old man appear from the crowd, smiling as he placed his hand on my shoulder, for me to understand.


    I fucking lost.

 Chapter: 11 Day 0 - Anyone Else

    My hands rested on my temples as I stared, sitting in the corner of the viewing area, watching the fight with Korbin over again. Each time it started so strong, combining Water Step into Lightning Strike, then using Flow Inverse on myself to change where the energy of my attack came from, it was beautiful. It even changed the skill description a bit, now with more range of utility as I read the notification I ignored.


    SKILL UPGRADED


    Flow Inverse (uncommon) ¡ª>


    Flow Inverse (uncommon) - when activated, the user will respond to an attack with another, even their own, as water has no limit to where it can fill if it¡¯s where it must go. User strikes a Flow point, reversing the Flow and movements completely. Effectiveness varies based on % advantage in agility to foes. +2 agility, +4 perception when active.


    The notifications header said it was an upgrade, but the rarity didn¡¯t change. Uncommon probably wasn¡¯t something to complain about at my level, but it¡¯s strange to know a skill upgrade can happen in increments. Breakthrough be damned though, because he popped right back up after I smashed my heel into his ribs at lightning speeds.


    What the fuck, how did he tank that so easily?


    Every time the sequence played, his glowing hands leaving light trails through the air kept stealing away my attention. Main reason being, it didn¡¯t quite look like fire. The light felt more ethereal, it didn¡¯t share the same dancing characteristics as fire. Yet, the heat was undeniable, remembering the smell of my burning arm and face hair as we clashed.


    The sole bonus from having your ass beaten by your teacher and broadcasted for the multiverse to see was being able to look for places I¡¯d slipped up. Thus far, it had been the only means of distracting myself from the soul shattering sense of failure that haunted my innermost thoughts. Meditation grew restless, I needed a direction to push my focus on in order to know why I lost.


    The fight was quick, admittedly. We may have gone back and forth for longer, before his mystical orange hands became a full body flame, enhancing every fucking movement he made, that is.


    ¡°Son, that guy¡¯s crazy strong.¡± The damage reflecting old man said, now standing beside me. He was never very far since I arrived here after the fight, though it¡¯d only been 10 minutes. ¡°Hold no shame in your heart, you fought bravely.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but, I need to be more than brave, sir. Please, if I could have a moment.¡±


    The old man smiled.


    ¡°Yeah, of course kid. Just know you did good, I¡¯ve been watching you since our match. Don¡¯t let the hatred that surrounds you taint your soul, son. You¡¯re a good man, I see it.¡±


    With that, he walked away, leaving me confused about all the hatred talk until I remembered the chained dagger psycho I put down.


    No fights had happened yet, which was odd considering how fast our fight began after the blondes. Right, I forgot she was there.


    Fuck, I got shit on right in front of her too.


    Rage now mixed with embarrassing continued rising in my chest. The 20% chance I had to fight him first coming to fruition was absolutely fucking ridiculous. I knew I could handle each and every other one of those fighters, the fear they wore so openly at the sight of the blonde said everything I knew.


    To them, failure was an option. Tapping out was on the table, they just never were faced with the decision. I had, on multiple occasions in this tournament alone. Yet of course, the guy who showed me how to even reach that point of discipline was my first big fucking fight. And I had him.


    Struggling to compose myself internally once more, my mental tirade was interrupted by a notification dinging in my head.


    Strange, I doubt I just unlocked a ¡®man child tantrum state¡¯ skill.


    Intrigue at the wheel, I opened the message, to find I had been invited for a meeting with a God, Perunious. Accompanying his name was a series of titles, ¡®God of Storm and Lightning¡¯ or ¡®Sovereign of the Sea¡¯. ¡®God of Wrath¡¯ stood out the most.


    Well shit, that sounds pretty cool.


    Not thinking, my mind must¡¯ve focused too heavily on accepting the invitation, because I found myself now surrounded by a massive ocean of water, with storm clouds cracking and thundering at all times overhead. Below me was a platform of what felt like pure water mana, and the air felt clean as it had at the water arena. Amplified ten fold by an electric charge that buzzed in the air, humming and making my insides flutter.


    Wait, my stomach, it doesn¡¯t hurt?


    ¡°Welcome to my domain, Tom.¡±


    A deep, thundering voice that echoed across the vast oceanic plane rang out. Peering to the source, a large figure sat upon a deep grey throne that crackled with lightning that pulsated throughout its structure.


    ¡°Hi¡­hey I must say I absolutely love what you¡¯ve done with the place. The view is immaculate.¡±


    Typically I¡¯d either be hunched over ignoring a potential patron, or making fun of them to get me out of there sooner. Truly, this place absolutely enamored me, and even if I had the splitting pain still, I may have tanked it out if it meant I got to come here more often.


    The God chuckled, placing his massive hand on his exposed stomach as his deep, thunderous voice bellowed through the vibrating air.


    He was in incredible shape, his glowing blue calf muscles looked larger than my torso, and he only wore boots, gauntlets, back and shoulder plating. That, and a crown made completely of lightning that danced in perpetuity, much like his exposed skin had.


    ¡°Thank you, but my wife is to thank for the beauty of this plane. I merely adopted hers after our Ceremony, how lovely it was, wasn¡¯t it dear?¡±


    He peered over his shoulder as a figure appeared from behind him.


    ¡°Yes, indeed it was my love.¡± She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her smile didn¡¯t quite look genuine, but I didn¡¯t want to assume her body language considering the differences in hers to a human woman¡¯s.


    Her body looked completely made from a deep blue water that swayed with her movement. Her eyes glowing a bright blue like my own, and her facial structure, albeit made of water, was perfect by all respects. Noticing her questioning eyes on me, I shifted mine back to her husband nervously.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you both. I assume you are Perunious?¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The God grinned, ¡°Indeed, I am. As you¡¯ve read as well, I am the God of both Storm and Sea, but only the second with supremacy thanks too, once more my wonderful partner here. Why don¡¯t you introduce yourself, love?¡±


    His Wife seemed hesitant.


    ¡°It¡¯s rude not to.¡± Perunious continued in a slightly more commanding tone. After an eye roll, she stepped forward.


    ¡°My name is Anutir, Goddess of Water, and all its sentient creatures. It is a pleasure to meet you, mortal.¡±


    Alright, weird dynamics here but, not my place.


    ¡°Hi, Tom, the pleasure is mine.¡± I said with a smile and a bow. She appeared to get a kick out of me bowing to her first, turning to her husband with a snide smirk as she walked back behind him into seemingly nothingness.


    ¡°I intend on watching every finalist fight of this tournament,  your planets especially. Your people have been particularly impressive, so I will keep this brief. I like you, kid.¡±


    I felt my eyebrow raise at his statement.


    ¡°I just lost though, why bring me here now?¡±


    Maybe after the first 90 fights I could understand his intrigue, but my neck got snapped while I was bent over having been spun and blinded  by Korbin¡¯s strikes right before I got here. Why now?


    ¡°I¡¯ve been watching for some time now, Tom. You see, victory is the absolute decider of power in most cases, most notably in discerning who¡¯s the very best at killing others. However, there are a few in which circumstances may muddy the ranks of everyone under, tarnishing its credibility if you ask me.¡±


    Pondering a moment, I shook my head in agreement.


    ¡°After seeing you fight, it¡¯s obvious to me you¡¯re already very in touch with your natural affinities. You never left the water arena once, which so happened to be my wife¡¯s arena.¡±


    That made sense, considering the familiar feelings of elation the energy hanging all around this place.


    ¡°I saw what concepts were at play when you discovered your signature strike. Many Gods and their followers have taken notice too, whether in person or projections. You harnessed lightning to increase your speed and subsequent force of your strike. You used my affinity, and expertly for your level at that. I¡¯ve yet to find another at your caliber on any other planets tournament in your galaxy. I wouldn¡¯t want anyone else.¡±


    Perunious was up from his throne now, making his way over to me at a steady walk. Now within 12 feet, I got a much better look at just how massive this God really was.


    He had to be over 9 feet tall, his body like that of mythological Gods found in ancient scripture. Bright blue and white energy whipped and cracked all around him, with a dark grey aura exuding from his body. He truly looked like a massive sentient storm in humanoid form, and his voice thundered as he approached me.


    ¡°I¡¯ve brought you here to propose an offer to you. Be my Chosen, and I will grant you with, not only the title and class options that comes with it, but power, freedom, and far, far more.¡±


    Stood in front of me, he reached his massive arm out, touching my shoulder. Instantly, my vision warped from the beautiful ocean world crashing all around me to the vast nothingness of space. Looking down, a planet lay shattered with continental chunks of it floating a good distance from where the majority of the planet remained. The planet itself was covered in massive clouds that strobed with bright flashes of blue light.


    Feeling a giant hand on my shoulder caused me to quickly twist my head to the side, revealing Perunious beside me.


    ¡°Relax, that is not what is important here. Merely a casualty of another God¡¯s impudence. No, what is important to you is here.¡± He boomed, pointing behind him revealing what looked like the moon, only covered in massive structures and giant clear domes.


    ¡°This my Flodhest, one of many. Here, we host the greatest warriors, where they train under the strongest of my faction between conquests. Each with the same goal in mind; power.¡±


    Before I could speak, stars became a tunnel of streaming light as space warped inward around me as my body sucked back suddenly, only to find myself back in his oceanic oasis of perfect energies.


    ¡°As my Chosen, you will need quick and easy means of progressing yourself, as a great many will not only look to you as a being of supreme strength and stature across the multiverse, but a target for a great many others who seek to upset the balance of our faction. I will provide your planet a Flodhest, and begin its terraforming after your tutorial, if you agree to become my Chosen.¡±


    Fighting my hardest to dial back my overwhelming excitement at all that had been offered to me, I forced myself to slow my thoughts and consider this proposal seriously.


    ¡°You said this would be given to me after the tutorial, right? Is there anything I could get for the tutorial instead?¡±


    Practically speaking, priority number one should be making it out of the tutorial, as I hadn¡¯t a clue what was to follow anyway.


    ¡°Your upper-grade Chosen brothers and sisters will keep a close eye on you to ensure you don¡¯t die. Who you align yourself with during the tutorial are on their own however. I will not waste the resources on possible future enemies.¡±


    Honestly, that makes sense.


    ¡°Of course, your status will be public knowledge among Chosen¡¯s of other Gods in your people¡¯s Tutorial, and I assure you their Patrons will know better than to anger me. Make no mistake, if you die in combat to someone in your grade, I will feel nothing for you. Clearly, that would mean I was wrong about you from the beginning, but something tells me you got the makings of a real fucking monster.¡± He proclaimed, his brow furrowed as he squeezing his fist closed at the end of his highly implication-packed compliment.


    ¡°You really got a lot of pull in the multiverse like that?¡± I said, a smile creeping on my face.


    The Gods eyebrow rose, and an air of seriousness filled his incredibly baritone voice.


    ¡°I am one of the Aboriginals, Tom. The fifth to ever achieve Godhood, and the first to kill another. My faction has spread across the multiverse for hundreds of millions of years. Countless civilizations built and buried in its wake. Most of all though Tom, I don¡¯t take kindly to being fucked with. The faction, especially my Chosen, are all extensions of me. Now, do you understand?¡±


    This is it. This has to be the fit for me. There¡¯s no way I could possibly get a better offer, and if I let this pass now, he may pick whoever actually wins this competition. Of course, fear of missing out can¡¯t be the single only reason I picked this God, and it wouldn¡¯t be.


    He¡¯s crazy powerful, at least according to him, and speaks very confidently of my eventual growth in strength. Above all, a single thought served as the final push to accept his offer.


    What if Korbin won the tournament?


    ¡°I humbly accept you as my Patron, Perunius.¡± I said with a smirk and a bow, earning another chuckle out of him.


    ¡°Excellent. Now, come here.¡±


    I walked the few steps away that he stood, where he raised his hand, gesturing for a handshake. A real handshake. Being sure to look my new boss in the eye as I shook his hand, I felt a rush of energy firing into my body through it like a million jets were blasting underwater, only it was my blood, bones and organs. Oddly, the pressure didn¡¯t hurt, but instead felt like it supercharged every cell in my body for a moment.


    You have been offered to become the Chosen (H) of: Perunious, Wrath God of Storm and Sea. Do you wish to accept?


    Fucking duh.


    My vision clouded a moment, before a wave of relief came over me as fast as the energy had entered my body. What followed was feeling stronger, faster, more ready than ever before to just move, when a notification rang.


    NEW TITLE UNLOCKED


    ->Chosen of the Wrathful God - One of the multiverse¡¯s most ancient and mightiest forces of nature has struck far more than interest in you, naming you his Champion of your grade across the multiverse. Let all who oppose you feel the rumbling of his presence wherever you strike.


    +10% potential to all stats through killing enemies with higher stats in a category. Rewarded the difference maximum +10%.


    Earn additional bonus experience points for enemies stronger than you.


    Holy shit. This is so broken.


    Based on the description, so long as I beat enemies who have a higher stat score in any category, I¡¯ll get the difference in my own stats up to +10%.Hypothetically, say I slay a beast with 2 more points in agility than me today, I¡¯d get all two added to my own stat sheet. Clearly, this deity had his priorities on birthing powerful warriors with such a reward system. Weirdly, I felt honored.


    ¡°Now that that¡¯s settled, my newest champion, come. Let us view your competition for the tutorial to come.¡±


    With a snap of his fingers, the world zoomed out into a massive fisheye effect, this time refocusing in a giant room which I only assumed to be his. The roof was illuminated by giant streaks of blue and white energy looming high above. Blue marble with artwork of an incredibly strong storm ravaging the sea decorated the floor. Pillars of pure energy radiating down the walkway to the exit of the overly large chamber.


    Perunious sat in a large tub, his water bubbling with steam rising from the surface. He motioned to a leather chair beside him with an ottoman in front of it.


    ¡°Please, join me. The next match is about to begin.¡±


    This guy¡¯s living like a fucking King.


    Feeling thoroughly flexed on, I obliged, and sat beside my new Patron. In front of us, a giant projection of the arena I had just died at was displayed onto an equally massive wall. This time, however, there was a visible timer, and it had just hit ¡¯2¡¯ when I sat down.


    Fuck it, time to do some scouting.