《Endurance Gladiator [Litmana Cultivation]》 0: Airship A massive shadow passed over Iris, snapping her to attention. As a guard¡¯s job was preparation for the worst, this hypervigilance had already tread circles into her brain. The human reached down to the horn on her belt with one hand, eyes shakily rising to the cloudy sky from her guardpost. They narrowed at a tempest of a downdraft, refocusing on its source and causing iris¡¯s heart to flutter. The massive shadow belonged not to a giant beast or mountain of bad weather, but a massive wooden ship on its trajectory to land just outside the city walls. The silver and green sails caught her gaze, drawing it to the winged snake insignia. She recognized the motif easily as the Zephyr clan, remembering their many trading runs from the nagadel isles. Iris¡¯s posture straightened. Her job as a guard was routine- up with the sun for two hours of repetitive yet rigorous training with the worn-out night shift, sight hours of waiting, and then two more hours of training alongside the annoyingly eager evening shift. While her muscles ached every night, her coinpurse did not. These airships landing were a fine break to the monotony, always containing the promise of interesting beings within. The smaller, house-sized ones contained eccentric travelers, full of stories and all too willing to tip generously. The larger, gym-sized ones were mostly military, bearing soldiers from more advanced parts of the world, their unorthodox glowing weapons a testament to relative advancement. They sought to purchase prisoners for their worst legion and hire soldiers for their second-worst. This ship however, sat right in the middle of the two sizes, measuring up to her guardpost in length and width. As part of the hull opened to expose the trade goods inside, Iris hatched a plan. As the airship¡¯s diplomat descended from the deck to meet someone higher up the chain than her, Iris hung up her armor early to sprint to her bunk in the barracks. She had enough to buy passage off this expanse of rock, see places of the world far more magical than this, and she knew it. Ignoring the more inappropriate comments from younger, more eager guards resting from their end-of-shift training, Iris knelt by her bed. Her strong arms grasped the chest bearing her belongings, heaving it out from under the tough bed. She jammed her key into the lock with shaking fingers, twisting it to the side to a satisfying set of clicks. The lid opened with ease, letting iris fill her pack. Her Coinpurse went right to the side to make itself hard to find and steal, spare clothing filling out the rest. She slung it by the rope over her shoulder, turning to go outside when she almost ran into a higher-ranked guard, built like a shed and smelling twice as bad. The larger guard blocked the door with his torso, solid enough to be used as a door should the need arise. ¡°Going somewhere, f-?¡± He started to slur, but Iris cut him off, fierceness standing up to his bulk. ¡°Tell sir nico I won¡¯t be here tomorrow.¡± The larger guard stammered something about loyalty, having never personally seen someone quit. Iris stuck her arm through the hole between him and the doorframe, wrenching herself through to the sound of a choice handful of curses. She picked up speed towards the ship, having no desire to stay around for the aftermath, and approached the solid wood with resolve. Iris practiced the words in her head, turning the line over and refining it like a sword on the anvil. ¡°How much for passage aboard? I¡¯ll man the ship as needed.¡± made it halfway to her throat, before the eccentric-looking diplomat raised an eyebrow under his cylindrical hat. ¡°You must be one of the new gladiators¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Iris stopped, words knocked out of her with the sudden change in tone. She had no plan for what to do on arrival, but seeing as she was only good at physical work... ¡°Yes, I am.¡± Iris spoke, in words that would change her trajectory through life. This job won over mining or farming any day. ¡°Excellent! Then take a seat in the sword cabin. We didn¡¯t expect gladiators to arrive so soon, so feel free to help out around the ship.¡± ¡°Much obliged¡± Iris said with an overly formal burst of gratitude, rising to the deck. She wouldn¡¯t even have to learn a new skill, just apply violence entertainingly. Iris found the sword cabin easily, the door emblazoned with a sign of an iron sword over a bronze star practically inviting her. She swung it open with a wide arc of her arm, an avalanche of warm air pouring out onto the cooler deck. Rust-brown cushions lined the seats, and softer-looking ones lined a second higher deck. A few others were already inside, mostly men of some level of muscle lining the half-full cabin. Where Iris would have seen listless boredom in a guardbox, she felt excitement radiate. She took her seat at an edge, catching the eye of a ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Iris brimstone, former guard¡± she answered, before conversation absorbed her ¡°A guard?¡± another sneered. ¡°You¡¯ll need to be more than that if you¡¯re from the barrens.¡± ¡°Calm down, she¡¯ll be out of them soon¡± ¡°Bet you can¡¯t handle the manaflood¡± Iris let the words slide off her, circling the feeling of freedom within her gut. More guards joined over the next few hours, with the last opening of the door heralding food and hope in the form of a green-clad ship attendant. ¡°The Takeoff will occur in seven minutes. If you have any business on the ship, perform it now.¡± Three of the bigger candidates tripped over eachother leaving, and in the absence of space the ship attendant reached into an unusually round scabbard. His hands moved like lightning, dropping a paper-wrapped cylinder into everyone¡¯s lap- or by their head, for those who rested on the deck above. The long sandwiches, full of dried meats and hardy plants, vanished like smoke into the guts of the gladiators. Barely a minute after, the ship departed from the soil, newly-filled stomachs lurching downwards. Everyone¡¯s spirits rose with the aircraft, inspiring the swapping of stories. It began as a dubious tale of tricking the examiners at one of the many mage-towers, countered by another¡¯s hunting trip to bag an emerald serpent, until the ante crescendoed in a superfluous tale of a new star being thrown into the sky. Iris added her own, of her and her allies fending off a cerulean owl, only to be deflated by the casualness of an offhanded comment. ¡°A cerulean owl? Those were my warmup opponents.¡± Conversation moved on, and Iris felt the air grow stuffier, likely not helped by the mass of bodies in it, but felt a blanket of warmth and contentment fall over her. At least for now, she was safe, she was free, she was full, and she was about to earn the awe of a crowd. Feeling her eyelids slip downwards, Iris put up no resistance to a well-deserved sleep. 1: Arena arrival Iris awoke with a jolt. The airship¡¯s landing was graded to preserve its likely-padded cargo, not the slumber of a passenger, and the whole room felt it. Another ship attendant opened the door a minute later, unease plastered across her face under her wide, pointed hat. ¡°Gladiators, we¡¯ve ar-rived. Make your way to-¡± Before one cut him off. ¡°Follow me, I¡¯ve been here before!¡± The gladiators poured out like marbles, leaving the groggy iris inside. She noticed thin clouds of mist, the red-orange colour of a setting sun clinging to the edges of the cabin, thickest opposite the door. ¡°Are you all right?¡± her voice asked, equal parts flat and warm. Iris looked around, mind slowly booting up, and sprawled on one of the side seats. She let herself breathe more freely, unimpeded by armor or obligation. ¡°So, you¡¯re a gladiator too?¡± Iris asked with an absentminded tone, eyes unfocusing. She turned her head to the side, getting a better look at the red and brown robes of the one other person inside. ¡°Name¡¯s iris-¡± The response ran side by side with a sweep of robes. ¡°I am; first and foremost, Kyrra of house Laurentius.¡± Kyrra bowed her wide-brimmed hat, silver shimmer from its edge catching her eye. Iris took a second to absorb the sight before her, feeling a sense of majesty and an instinctual inspiration to sit up straighter from the commanding presence. ¡°My family line runs unbroken to the first flame witches of old.¡± Kyrra continued. ¡°We arose from the swamps and...¡± her facade of bravery dropped like cast-off armor. ¡°you¡¯re really not paying attention are you¡± ¡°I am.¡± Iris reassured. ¡°Work¡¯s long every day, so I rarely get a good sleep.¡± ¡°This one was too good by the looks of it.¡± Kyrra snarked. Iris took a second and relaxed her seating, striking a balance between rest and attention. ¡°So, where¡¯d they go from the swamps?¡± The glow returned to Kyrra¡¯s face. ¡°Upwards and outwards across the graveshield plains. Our skill and determination let us survive the many dangers, human and otherwise.¡± ¡°So, how do you fit into this?¡± Iris cut in at a pause Kyrra furrowed her brow in thought and frustration. ¡°My father leads the pyrotechnics in the arena. His spells are far safer to have around than a stash of explosives.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re a wizard?¡± Iris challenged, an interested look of disbelief plain on her face. ¡°Show me a spell or two¡± Kyrra shook her head, inwardly disappointed. ¡°The mana in your country is too thin. Flying through it was an exercise in keeping my mana channels closed, and even that is slipping.¡± ¡°I was wondering about the mist. Let me just send it back.¡± Iris offered, and before Kyrra could object the guardswoman scooped her hand around a clump of mist by the door. She flung her hand towards the fire mage, releasing only a woosh of air. ¡°You absorbed it.¡± Kyrra stated accusatorily, Iris¡¯s dumbfounded expression speaking for itself. ¡°I what?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me this is the first mana in your body...¡± Kyrra sighed. ¡°Of course it is, I thought wizards were liars and mana was a sham until two minutes ago.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°I can safely assure you we are not.¡± Kyrra stated defensively. ¡°I pity those who grow up without it and have to do everything the hard way. It leaves no time or energy to do anything you want to do.¡± ¡°Tell me about it. I¡¯m capable of loads more than watching the clouds and scaring away monsters.¡± Iris bragged. No sooner did she close her mouth did her hand seem to flare up with heat, feeling of her heart beating within it magnified tenfold. Kyrra looked in amazement, not even waiting through Iris¡¯s surprise-mangled words. ¡°You just integrated your first bit of mana!¡± She beamed, taking Iris¡¯s hand and wrist in her smaller grip. ¡°I did what?¡± Iris asked. The shock of the sensation had worn off, replaced with a small but noticeable feeling of power and identity. Iris always knew her hand was hers, but this made it seem all the more connected. ¡°You made mana part of you! Mana is the world¡¯s power, and through this worldly power it accepted you.¡± Kyra explained. ¡°Or the other way around. My father will be delighted that I made a new mage.¡± ¡°So, can I help myself to the extras in the cabin¡± ¡°I can barely reabsorb it without losing twice as much. Collect all that you can.¡± Iris scooped her hands through the mana on the corners of the room as if collecting water to drink. Her fingers squished together, determined not to let any of this vaporous power pass through her grasp. Iris looked downwards at her hands, this red mist still clinging to them, and remembered how she activated it. ¡°I¡¯m a gladiator now? I¡¯m going to demolish my first match.¡± The feelings of power burned their way into iris¡¯s hands like ale from a keg. Her veins pulsed with heat, and as Iris looked to her ring finger, she saw its ugly scar grow thinner, cleaner. ¡°So this is mana.¡± Iris observed in awe. ¡°I feel like I could break somebody¡¯s wrist by grabbing it too hard. Not that I¡¯m complaining¡± She added with a sharp tone. Kyrra was about to agree, opening her mouth to speak; but stopping when the door opened again with a familiar rush. ¡°So, what are you reading?¡± Iris asked, eye drawn to the leather tome. It bore the same colour scheme as Kyrra¡¯s robes; brown with silver accents, and a stylized burning ember lit up the front ¡°Why, my first Tome!¡± Kyrra announced with mysticism, trailing off at Iris¡¯s confused expression. ¡°Tomes are... compressed knowledge.¡± Kyrra explained. ¡°When a mage grows high enough in power, they can copy bits of their knowledge to ink and bind it up in leather. From there, another mage can absorb-¡± ¡°So you¡¯ve got writing.¡± Iris sighed. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal?¡± ¡°A ha, this is a step beyond writing¡± Kyrra boasted offendedly. ¡°When reading a standard book, you must piece together the words and phrases to create knowledge. Tomes store some of their own, letting an aspiring mage drink it off the page and learn faster than before. Tomes by older, wiser mages have a better increase in speed, and a vastly better capacity.¡± Iris laughed calmly. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d see a book able to dry up. What¡¯s so great about-¡± ¡°Here.¡± Kyrra thrust the Tome into Iris¡¯s hands. ¡°Try for yourself.¡± Iris began to leaf through the pages, eyes stopping on the headers every dozen or so. Mana gathering, Mana charring, Internal flame, Fire projection, draconic theory. Iris was rarely one to read at all, yet something about this rush captivated her. She felt new thoughts pour into her mind like water into parched ground, feeling as cold as if she was stripped in a snowstorm when Kyrra pulled the Tome away. Iris seemed to freeze in sadness and surprise, when Kyrra hammered her point home. ¡°Can you achieve that with a mere book?¡± ¡°Not even once.¡± Iris agreed with sadness. ¡°What... was that?¡± ¡°Knowledge being poured into your head. As mana does to your hands.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll need it in my first bout, I can feel it.¡± Iris agreed. Now that she knew what to look for, mana was everywhere. It had taken a while to reach the cabin, but as Iris strode out into the evening air, she could feel more of it move around and through her like water through a fishing net. Iris began to focus her mind- ¡°The mana¡¯s better inside. Take the third door to the left and pick a bedroom, you¡¯ll be fighting in the morning¡± Having little to take, Iris navigated the twisting corridors at the base of the round building. She counted doors- one, two, three, and then opened the door on the left. An unnatural cold ran through the room, the hairs on Iris¡¯s arms standing at attention, when something turned to her. A glowing orb sat atop a pile of misshapen stone, asymmetrical in every dat. ¡°You¡¯re early¡± it groaned, like rotten wood bending. ¡°I¡¯m iris?¡± she corrected, raising her arms. The being made of stone laughed slowly. ¡°The boss wants to test his creation. Prepare yourself...¡± Before Iris knew what hit her, A large stone hand knocked her forward into the incoming pit. Iris righted herself, curling her fingers like claws, when a drooling, smacking snarl filled the air. 2: Against the tar wolf Iris¡¯s vision adjusted to the dark, filtering in every point of light over her raised forearms. Right as two points of cyan light struck out against it, so did a claw, stretching from the creature¡¯s torso with a stretching noise and a flash of light. Iris lunged forward, memory of dodging many a swinging punch replaying in her head, when she felt the limb unstretch, sweeping her forward. Iris stomped a foot forward into the pit¡¯s stone floor, screeching to a halt. The monster, expecting iris to be there early, snapped all too close to her midsection as its head snapped into her vision. It bore a skull over its head, twin points of light acting like spectral eyes, their glare only made weirder by an excited panting from a lower jaw of dark flesh. Iris wasted no time, even as the monster drew back for a lunge. Iris¡¯s fist shot forward to the skull, and her entire right half pulled back out of range of a rising snap with a backstep. The same fist aimed low, knees bending to accommodate a curved strike to the lower jaw. Her fist sunk into the creature¡¯s flesh, yet she could perceive no damage, flesh soaking up the force like a sponge. Iris realized she needed to change tactics. She twisted to the side of a bite, opening her fist to mimic a claw- much like the one swinging for her leg. It struck true, compromising Iris¡¯s stance as it raked across with a determination to spill blood. Iris grabbed for the stretched arm, catching it just below the claws and pulling. The beast fell off its feet, and Iris knew this was her chance. She drove her good knee down into its helmet of a skull, a satisfying crack to the armor indicating her success. She lashed downwards, catching the beast¡¯s upper limbs in clawswipes of her own. And almost roared with success as she felt material come loose, clinging to her fingernails. As Iris focused her attention there, she felt a similar rush. A similar sense of empowerment, crescendoing at an octet of burning points at the end of her claw. She drove them further into the limbs of this monster, closing her burning fingers around a limb and with odd ease, ripping it off. Black liquid gushed from the monster¡¯s ruined limb, shrieking panic letting it shake out from under Iris¡¯s grasp and recollect itself. It hobbled aside, barely able to dodge Iris lunging forward with another burning swipe, but a wave of exhaustion swept up her arm. No fire came to her hand, merely a sharpness that dug too shallowly into the monster to be of any use. Its other claw lashed up for her side, drawing blood and blurring her vision. Iris raised her arm to defend from a second swipe, seeing the claw come back covered in more of her crimson life force on the jagged points. Iris gave one final kick, stumbling as the beast caught her foot in its mouth and twisted. She fell to the stone floor with a thud, feeling her leg released. The monster limped around her side, finding a place to land, and lunging for neck- as a predictable animal would. Iris caught the bite on her forearm, cursing loudly and lashing out with her claw-stanced hand. Her first strike whiffed, her second glanced its horn, and even as her own blood was pouring from her arm her third struck the monster in its eye, fingers gouging deep into the flesh with one final spark. That spark lit up the room, stunning both participants and seeming to melt the skull-headed slimewolf. ¡°Good show, good show! Defiant till the end!¡± praised someone from above. Iris rose to an elbow, turning aside and putting her good leg under her. One-leg rises were something she had trained beforehand, but not while losing this much blood. The cobra head of the speaker crested the rim of the pit, looking Iris up and down. ¡°Wait a second, you¡¯re not my test subject¡± Iris looked towards the white-robed serpentine being, breath sharp as she tried to switch from fighting to talking ¡°I won. Get me out.¡± She ordered. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The cobrafolk turned aside. ¡°Of course, of course. Phil¡¯mat, extend the ladder¡± A woodcreak of a grunt in response later, and metal rungs slid out of the stone ramp. Iris grasped one, a new spurt of blood joining the quickly-drying older shades of brownish-red. ¡°And bring this lady a potion¡± Iris lifted herself halfway up the ladder, about to lose her grip when a tail curled around her arm. ¡°Pull.¡± Instructed the same serpent, lifting Iris with a considerable effort. She braced her legs against the side, almost sending the cobra to plunge when the new gladiator collapsed forward. ¡°What was that stretchy bastard?¡± Iris huffed, slowly taking a knee. ¡°That, my unexpected companion, was a Protenwolf. And I am its maker, Dr. Aspidae¡± A noticeable hiss escaped their lips at the S sound. The same lopsided stone creature from earlier extended a spindly stickbug of arm, awkwardly placing a tall glass bottle of reddish-pink liquid on the table. Iris steeled herself, sniffed, and raised the glass to her lips. It poured past, shimmering pink potion sliding down her throat in gulping waves. With every gulp, Iris felt her wounds shrink. A pleasant chill followed, neutralizing the dull burning of her collection of pain. ¡°You said you make monsters?¡± Iris asked, to a nod of Aspidae¡¯s long neck. ¡°I am one of the many budding beast-smiths of Nagadel arena. A monster of the correct level of power will advance me further. Now I have to re-make the monster, pay off the guards-¡± A greedy gleam twinkled across Iris¡¯s face. ¡°That was... actually kind of fun. How about you pay me half that fee to keep quiet, and pretend we never met?¡± Aspidae breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°I can afford to pay you off, but not the arena fees. You may have one item from my laboratory, but speak of this accident to no one.¡± Iris felt herself shrink back, a spike of fear drilling into her mind before dissipating harmlessly. She had no doubt this was some sort of mana-driven ability, as she had faced tougher before. So much so that she resented how pathetic she sounded. ¡°Do you have anything related to fire? Or a Tome? I¡¯m new¡± Aspidae scoffed, rummaging through a door. ¡°A Tome? Do I look like I could afford one? Seeing as you barely have any mana in you, I¡¯ll give you a Manual. Now return to your nest, human¡± The serpent-person tossed a smaller, thinner book through the air. It spun almost too gracefully, until it touched Iris''s hand. She dropped it, reached for it, and grasped an inch too short, having to bend over humiliatingly just to pick it back up. A tail cracking like a whip behind her hastened her exit, clutching the manual of folded paper so tightly it creased. Knowing this was far from the right door, she sighed, and retraced her steps back to the entryway. She turned in an about-face, counted three doors, and came up short, to a door with an obvious bed emblazoned on its bound-together wooden planks. Iris found a spare bed after only a bit of searching, the cramped nature of the rooms rendering the walk short. Iris flopped onto her bed with exhaustion, descending from the adrenaline high of the last fight. As soon as she did, a screen of cyan flicked to life on the unassuming wall. [Greetings, Iris Brimstone. I am Squire, your gladiator companion] 3: The squire system Iris turned her head to the screen, squinting at the white words dancing across its expanse. Curiosity drove her to watch the words vanish, just as quickly replaced with a simplistic interface. The top of the screen showed the time, 1:41 AM. Five button-bearing boxes emerged across the bottom, thinnest on the right. The screen above seemed bare, and Iris did nothing- until text blinked on the screen. [¡°Tap a box for more information] Iris shrugged, and tried the boxes in order lest curiosity kill her sleep. The first one, [Communication], was almost-equally bare. [No Gladiators met] it informed her, almost mockingly in the plain-ness of its message. Sighing at the feeling, Iris tapped [Fighting]. Far more information lived in this part of the System, left side displaying arena rankings of people she didn¡¯t know. Gorkurn Elflash, Olga Hollybane, Vlesdec Zagera, Glim Dikitsk, Chieturnea Jisocus, and the top half of another. Iris slid her finger up the screen, and many more names scrolled past. Swiping quickly to the side changed the division, from beginner to lightweight to manaweight. Iris didn¡¯t stay too long on names that meant nothing to her, instead observing the right side of the screen marked [Schedule]. It was far more pertinent to her, top words causing her heart to flutter. [Placement match: 9 AM. (all new gladiators)] That was seven hours away, when it took her closer to ten to even think to go from entering bed to fighting shape. The rest of the schedule was marked with times but otherwise blank, likely as she had no division yet. Iris knew she had to get the best division she could. Her pay, her respect, her quality of life, would be set into motion in not even a third of a day. With more purpose, Iris tapped [Mana]. On the left, a massive white circle took up half the screen. As important as it looked, it displayed no information, only [Core not formed]. On the right, an outline of a human body. Most of this body was blacked off, save for a perfect circle in the center of its chest, and some less clean spots at the hands. It appeared to be wearing grey gloves, tiniest bits of red comprising the outlines. A bar in the middle conveyed some of the same information: almost all blank, a segment of grey, and a silver of red. ¡°Fire mana...¡± Iris whispered, remembering her accidental absorption on the ship and fight against the canine. ¡°And sharpness mana?¡± The system was cagey. It did not respond to her voice, leaving her to wonder what the grey was. The [Skills] panel was almost just as unflattering, displaying a single table of dull-red and text of white.
Fire Projection F+
Draconic Theory F-
Internal Flame F
Mana Attraction F
Mana Charring F+
Iris had heard of this sort of grading before. F stood for at the very least failure, those plusses or minuses doing little to draw her mind away form the letter itself. Iris turned her attention back to the names, finding them all familiar. Mages were far from pyromancers, so unless this was the starting package of skills, these were the concepts she picked up from skimming Kyrra¡¯s tome. Iris had definitely projected fire in the tar wolf fight in the monster-wright¡¯s pit, but mana charring? Iris sat up to stop the desire to sleep from creeping in, cycling her arms in movement. She leaned her back against the wall near her pillow, having to lean forward again to recover her new manual and find a comfortable position to read it. Mana basics It read, in messy, squiggling scrawl. Iris felt that same sense of supernatural focus as she read over the text. With a much more relaxed time limit, she could drink this knowledge as if it was locked up in a small keg of her own, rather than anything she had to share. Her mind felt itself begin to fill like parched earth under a pour of water, any sort of headache replaced with a pleasant sensation and a rush of power. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Right as Iris finished the first page, detailing how mana was the lifeblood of the world, the page lost all coherence. It disconnected from the rough twine binding with a gentle ripping noise, falling onto Iris¡¯s leg and breaking into a pile of fine dust under its own weight. Iris had drunk the knowledge from the first page in a dozen minutes or so, and was ready for more. The desire for knowledge and the power it brought eclipsed hunger, eclipsed fatigue, and was making its way to block out her desire for connection. Ramblings on mana attraction comprised the next few pages, but between the lines, all she read was the importance of inner calm. And Iris was having none of it. She valued action over thought, movement over stillness, gladiatorial fighting over guard duty- When a single thought cut in. One must be still, so that they may act. Act too much, and you will be stilled by the world. Iris felt a restraint in her mind snap, knowledge and mana beginning to flow in equal measure. She closed her eyes, cutting out any glowing distraction. The room was oddly quiet despite the gladiatorial nature- where Iris expected to hear the sounds of walking, fighting, partying, and dealing, she heard only the excited beat of her own heart. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to slow that.¡± Iris thought, taking another look at techniques and finding a pattern of breathing. It was simple in concept and simpler in execution. 4 heartbeats inhaling, four holding full, four exhaling, and 4 holding empty. It had no need to count seconds, and would become easier the calmer she was, ramping itself into utility. Iris let her arms hang free and tried again, her cardio-adapted breath shaking just to still this long. Iris was not patient, but if anything she was persistent. After several attempts, she found a rhythm and held it. Another restraint came loose. Iris¡¯s heart slowed, letting her feel a subsiding coldness in her hands. She felt the mana within herself pulse, focusing on the parts that not even hours ago drank the essence of fire. A sense movement swept around her hands, making her above all else think of sand swept by a tide. And deposited for her own use. Iris felt a sense of fullness, and checked her slate. The mana bar in the center had filled with grey, and if Iris wasn¡¯t mistaken: the bit of red on the bottom had grown to twice its size. This was likely enough to play with, but a lack of numbers made it difficult to tell what would last through a fight. ¡°Only one way to find out," Iris said to no one. She turned off the bed and stood, stance as wide as reasonable in this thin room. There had to be a better place to practice, but this was the one she had. Iris focused on her fingertips again, drawing her arm back and slashing forward with an open claw. While Iris expected a feeling of sharpness, all she felt was the rush of air between her fingers. Unwilling to let that be the end of her tests, Iris tried again. She made her first slash, then while drawing back from it twisted her torso. Her other arm jabbed forward in a gutpunch of a strike, followed up by a long overhead slash meant for the eyes of any. As her upper hand crested its journey to an invisible enemy, something in her fingertips roared to life. She felt a drain from her hand, saw a similar drain in that mana bar, and heard her claw of a hand whistle through the final foot of air in front of her before digging into the wooden side of her bed. Iris almost shouted in celebration. She drew back and released a few more test slashes, rhythmically demolishing the chest of an imagined foe. With every forward slash, lines of light grey appeared at her fingernails, and Iris longed to see them in action again. Six quick swipes later, she found her supply of grey drained, bar emptied save for that sliver of red. This move was nothing flashy, but her ticket to power. Iris sat back on her bed, progressing through the manual to calm herself down. She was too hopped up on the high of power to gather mana again, so looked to the stabilizing words of the paper and ink. The next page fell to the ground, giving way to one on mana infusion. Mana fills every container it is willed to. What it cannot fill further, it works to refine. Iris had no items to infuse. Her clothing was damaged, and easier to replace than repair- especially if she wowed the audience. She skipped that chapter, and went forward- to flesh reinforcement. Flesh acts as both conduit and container for mana. Mana follows desires, channeled through the flesh to strike out and stand its ground. Yet flesh clings to moving mana, absorbing and integrating it to grow in strength. This had explained her desires. Iris learned how to reinforce her fingers and temporarily sharpen their ends into clawed points before she even knew that¡¯s what she was doing. Iris set the manual down and tried to stabilize her mind again, to cut out all distractions, when one rumbled from inside. Fighting made one hungry, and Iris guessed that mana channeling counted. She sighed, stuffed her manual in her pocket, and left to find a meal. Only to turn out of her room and bump into someone clad in black. 4: Alchemist She was tall, slender, sporting pale skin, pointed ears, hair of teal, and eyes of yellow. Those eyes widened as Iris bumped into her, accompanying a sound of clinking glass. Iris stepped back in instinct, but the newcomer darted down with impossible speed. She shot a thin arm out to the spilled bottle of orange-green liquid and flipped it over in one motion, spilling a few drops of potion onto the stone-tile ground. ¡°Who else is up at this hour?¡± She exclaimed in surprise, her grip around the glass bottle tightening. ¡°Me, that¡¯s who¡± Iris answered unhelpfully. ¡°First-day gladiator. And yourself?¡± ¡°Oh, just an alchemist. Haven¡¯t seen one of those before?¡± Iris had. Someone with her almost-human features on the other hand, she had only heard of. And felt ready to lend a lot more weight to diplomats who talked of the treefolk. ¡°Not once in my life¡± Iris sarcastically played along. ¡°Did I spill your best potion or something?¡± ¡°Yes actually, you did.¡± The alchemist cut in. ¡°I was making a delivery to a client. One of your opponents. I can convince him that I got distracted and reduced the batch too much, but you owe me for the inconvenience. Meet me after your placement match to discuss detail¡± ¡°And if I refuse?¡± ¡°I know what you look like¡± The alchemist threateningly hissed. Knowing how outclassed she was, Iris switched tactics. ¡°That you do. The name¡¯s Iris, and I know a mistake when I make one. I¡¯ll help you with your potions when we¡¯re in an actual state to make them, and when I¡¯m not pulling an all-nighter.¡± ¡°Iscelline Sagebrand. You¡¯ll be able to look me up on that... screen of yours.¡± ¡°Squire?¡± Iris offered, to a dismissive wave from Iscelline. ¡°Whatever they call it now. I¡¯ve seen it branded as everything under the sun.¡± Iris thought for a second, flowing back to an earlier point. ¡°How much do you like that client you¡¯re brewing for?¡± ¡°Where are you going with this?" Iscelline asked snarkily. ¡°I¡¯m not going to just give-¡± ¡°I¡¯ll give you half my first batch of winnings for a potion.¡± Iris offered, eyes catching the low lights of the gladiator room-halls. ¡°Anything that¡¯ll help me place higher in the opening round.¡± The look of greed on the new gladiator¡¯s eyes could only be matched by the look on the alchemist¡¯s. She eyed her potential client up and down, running odds that Iris had no knowledge of- not yet. ¡°You don¡¯t even have a core yet? I could take the boring path and give you one of my core formation elixirs, but you look like the type to earn it yourself. I won¡¯t give you a ladder up the wall, but I''ll... throw you a piton or two.¡± ¡°Put out your hand.¡± Iscelline instructed. Iris did so, and Iscelline¡¯s ring glowed. A smaller glass bottle popped out, this one far more labelled than anything Squire could throw at her. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. [Mana absorption potion (8 hours)] read the faded paper. Iris questioned how old it was, but this was her chance to get ahead. She stabbed a thumb into the cork and drank, the silver liquid slipping down her throat rather than lingering like the healing one. What lingered however was a burning, drilling sensation from her hands to her forearms, as if something was tightening the connection so hard it would break. ¡°Good luck!¡± Iscelline called, but Iris was already off to her own room. She closed the door behind her, resumed a messy boxer¡¯s stance, and hurled her hand forward, discharging a larger claw of spirit behind the swipe. With the ache remaining in one hand but gone from the other, Iris brought herself into a sharper, more refined stance. She jabbed a claw in a low, upward-facing strike, intended to dip below a ribcage and pierce the vitals beneath. Enough mana cleared from her hands to think, Iris looked over at her screen. The central bar was filling, slowly but noticeably, and the red sliver had grown to around half a finger¡¯s width. ¡°If I''m thinking of it that way...¡± Iris muttered. ¡°Then I might as well build on it.¡± Iris leaned in closer to the stone tablet, and placed her finger near the bottom, lining it up as best she could with the slowly-filling bar. Hoping this wouldn¡¯t give it a strange command, Iris placed her other finger just over the last, leaving a placeholder for the next. She counted as she placed, digit over digit, cresting the top of the bar at ten. With that information, Iris stepped back and waited in a fighting stance until she reached capacity. She slashed sideways in the air, neither part of a rapid combo nor an overhead skull-strike, and then measured the emptied space with her fingers. This claw-strike took a tenth of her reserve, ready to use again in the space of ten heartbeats. Wanting to delay the burning pain as long as she could, Iris alternated claw strikes. She paused between every set but worked up a rhythm, first of ten strikes, then eleven, then twelve. As she was watching the bar deplete halfway to thirteen, a box jumped into existence near the top of the screen. [Discovered unarmed weapon art: Mana claw] Iris stared at the notification, mystified. Impressed with herself and the flexibility of this new world she found herself in. The notification lingered for around three reads, then vanished to the side, only a red circle left behind. Iris tapped it, and saw a handful more of these notifications in a downward-scrolling log. [Mana Attraction: F -> E-] [Learned: Mana Infusion] [Learned: Flesh reinforcement] Iris scrolled back to her character sheet, looking over the changes made. Her skill list was more impressive; that is, somewhat less unimpressive -Skills- Flesh reinforcement: E- Mana Attraction: E Mana Claw: E Mana Infusion: E- Fire Projection: F+ Draconic Theory: F- Internal Flame: F Mana absorption: F Mana Charring: F+ She read. Barely half an hour into her elevated state, Iris gave more and more mana claws a try. With every forward-stepping set of slashes, Iris could feel more and more movement within her limbs. Slowly but surely, the mana was clearing her forearms, burning away at the dark gunk. She spent the next half-hour in studious practice, filling and emptying her mana like breathing lungs and driven ahead by whatever was above. Every few slashes, she felt herself able to add yet another to her growing chain of attacks. How much was due to greater skill efficiency was something she did not yet know, but the increased capacity would be helpful no matter what. A notification caught Iris¡¯s attention, likely about mana claw rising in rank, but something else had greater pull. Iscelline threw herself through the door, almost ploughing into Iris. ¡°He went nuts because his potion was empty, save me and we¡¯ll discuss payment.¡± Iris looked to the alchemist, then the door. Able to hear the thumping of footsteps, she was not one to merely buckle. ¡°We¡¯ll talk then. Get under the bed.¡± Iris instructed, widening her stance in the narrow room. When the door opened with a bang, snarl, and glow of crimson eyes