Third day of the five-day tournant. This was supposed to be the day I'd finally face soone at least remotely interesting. Pelge promised as much — he'd been watching every match himself or sending his subordinates to do it for him.
The fights went on around the clock, but I couldn't stay in the coliseum non-stop. After getting let down by the first few opponents I ca across, I asked Remus for a favor. I'd already wasted way too much ti, letting myself get distracted from my endless grind.
I asked him to find the strongest person he could — soone who'd be willing to spar with . But then he gave a reply I never expected to hear from a seasoned rchant...
"Allow to ask, Nott-san," he said with the most serious expression I'd ever seen on him. "Do you want soone very strong — or soone who's an experienced fighter, hardened by countless battles?"
That's when I started to think. He had a point — in this world, raw power isn't the sa as skill. Fighting so clumsy high-level idiot wouldn't really make stronger. At least not in the way I imagined.
The very next day after our conversation, they introduced to this unremarkable-looking guy, maybe in his 40s. He didn't make any grand speeches, didn't reveal the secret to mastery right off the bat or anything. And when I couldn't hold back and asked the obvious question, he replied simply and to the point...
"I was hired to teach you, not to chat. So go on — attack." And he took a stance, sword held at a slight angle in front of him.
Shrugging, I did what he asked. I used the Battle Scythe and probably tapped into about a fifth of my full strength. Still, I was a bit surprised when he blocked the strike — and almost kicked in return.
"Too relaxed. You really think you're gonna learn anything with that kind of approach?"
I didn't answer. Holding back way less this ti, I attacked again. The swordsman dodged my sudden lunge by shifting slightly to the side. Then, stepping forward, instead of going for , he struck my weapon with his elbow — sothing I totally didn't expect. It threw off balance just enough to let his blade get a little too close for comfort.
"Now you're using too much force. You're here to learn how to wield your weapon — not just crush your opponent with raw power, right?"
I didn't even look at the sword sowhere near my neck. I kept staring ahead, at the tip of the Battle Scythe. After a brief mont of dull confusion, I realized I couldn't stop the smirk creeping onto my face.
"Oh. Has anyone ever told you your smile's kinda creepy?"
"Yeah."
"Then we're good," he nodded. "Though I get the feeling you were hoping to master... a different kind of weapon. Am I wrong?"
So he knows. Well then, Remus Pelge... I guess I actually do owe you one. Maybe for soone with his connections and influence, finding soone like this wasn't too hard — but that didn't make it any less useful for . Still, I'll make my final judgnt after the training's done.
"...Aaaand here they co — the mysterious, shadow-shrouded newcor, Hida-a-a-a-an, ve-e-e-e-ersus... Martis! A fighter already known as a seasoned warrior! Who will win in this epic clash?!"
Ti for another one of my fights. I'd heard of this guy, but calling him a "seasoned gladiator" was a stretch. Sure, he had so experience, but not once had he managed to win a tournant.
And he's not winning this one either. I planned to fight using only my weapon mastery — at least until I got pushed into a corner. To pull off what I had in mind from the start, I needed to win this very first tournant. Which ant, if I had to, I'd just crush the enemy with brute force.
Well... unless I ran into soone who was just plain stronger than . That could happen too.
As soon as we took our positions across from each other, the announcer called the start of the fight. Martis smirked and drew a pretty decent-looking sword from its sheath — covered in strange engravings and giving off a faint glow.
With a burst of speed, he charged and swung horizontally. I easily dodged it, simply stepping back and to the side, eyeing him with a mix of confusion and mild disappointnt.
What I didn't expect was the small cut that showed up on my stomach.
"Tch. That slash should've spilled your guts. What the hell are you made of?" he muttered, his face twisting in disappointnt.
Yeah... enchanted weapons. I hadn't really dealt with them before, so this was new — and kind of a problem. But whatever. People love jumping to conclusions, so let 'em think I'm so high-level tank.
"Magma runs through my veins, my friend," I replied blissfully.
"What?"
Then I dashed forward and thrust the Battle Scythe, aiming to pierce his shoulder.
I used about the sa level of power he had — maybe even a little less. That's probably why he managed to dodge, though a bit clumsily.
Right after that, I yanked the scythe back, pulled my arm behind , and — using the spin from the motion — delivered a roundhouse kick that did land, sending Martis flying sideways.
Step forward, plant weight on the left leg — and hurl the scythe like a harpoon straight at the confused opponent.
"Wha?!" Tumbling to the ground with a clumsy roll, the man stared wide-eyed at the scythe arcing toward him. Mid-flight, it suddenly transford into a burst of energy and, almost instantly, shot back to — rematerializing in my hands as a scythe once more. "You've got enchanted gear too?!"
I didn't answer — just smiled. Let him think that. No way an average person would guess he's fighting one of the Heroes right now.
"Doesn't matter. That ans nothing," he growled and lunged at again.
As I parried his strikes and threw in a few of my own, I started to understand one simple, yet incredibly important thing...
Technique. Every fighter had their own technique. So kind of base style — or sothing personal, honed and shaped through hundreds, maybe even thousands of battles.
Thanks to the Hero's cheat-like system, I didn't need that kind of ridiculous volu. But even so — becoming a true master, the greatest warrior in the world, wasn't sothing that would just fall into your lap. Not even if you're a Hero. My long plateau at Scythe Mastery Level 8 said more than enough about that. And now...
[Scythe Mastery (Lv. 9)]
...my skill, thanks to all that training earlier, looked like this. Just as I thought — what I'd really been missing was actual combat experience. And the mont I hit Level 9, I could feel I was getting close to the edge. My head buzzed with thoughts, concepts, theories, sensations — none of them solidifying into anything clear. All I could do now was keep training and let experience pile up.
After sending Martis flying again — this ti with a bit more force than intended — I caught myself drifting into thought. He gasped for air, coughing, then clenched the hilt of his sword until it creaked.
"Damn it! I wasn't supposed to use this so early, but I can't lose! You should've just surrendered, kiddo. But now... now you have to die," he snarled, grabbing the sword with both hands and raising it above his head.
"HRAAAAAAH!!!" And then, for so reason, he scread. At the sa ti, a real whirlwind began swirling around his blade.
Interesting. A plain "seasoned warrior" probably couldn't afford a toy like that.
So he must've found himself a pretty rich sponsor — sohow.
Thing is, second-rate fighters like him usually only get attention from the wealthy for one of two reasons: either soone wants to eliminate another contestant through soone else's hands... or they're testing out a new prototype weapon.
When the gust reached its peak — my cloak's hood already flapping from the pressure — Martis let out an even louder scream and swung his blade wide in my direction, launching all that power at like a cannon shot.
The surge of wind tore through everything in its path like a drill, churning up dirt and debris.
Spinning the scythe, I slid one leg back to plant my weight, creating a stable anchor point. Then, using Mana Control at level 6, I flooded my entire body with magic. Taking it a step further, I focused an even stronger current of mana into my weapon.
Pulling the scythe back behind , I braced to et the oncoming vortex.
And when it was just a few ters away...
WHOOSH!
With a deafening roar, the scythe sliced upward through the air — cutting the magical attack clean in half with a massive sonic boom. Two shockwaves blasted out from either side, kicking up clouds of dust around .
"Wait, wait, wait! Am I seeing this right?!" As the dust began to settle, the announcer shouted, his voice full of disbelief. "Did Hidan just slice through a high-level magical attack from an enchanted weapon?!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!"
I turned my gaze to Martis — staring blankly ahead, completely out of it. The sword in his hands crumbled to dust before my eyes. And he didn't seem to have a spare.
So it really was the second option...
"Gonna just stand there, or are you finally gonna surrender?"
"Y-you... Screw you!" Yeah, he'd clearly lost it. He pulled a dagger — more of those fancy runes on it — from inside his jacket and lunged at .
"Got it."
Not holding back anymore — and rembering what I'd just learned — I ducked under his arm and, with a sharp motion, cut it clean off.
The severed limb spun into the air, and a second later, the dagger still clutched in its grip exploded in a cloud of black smoke. Thanks to my sensory abilities, I felt sothing foul radiating from the released magic. So kind of curse?
If I'd dodged or parried that strike, it would've definitely hit . Guess going with the more brutal option was the right call.
"GRAAAAGH!!!" The man scread, clutching the bloody stump. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you freak! You've got no idea who you're dealing wi—"
His head rolled off his shoulders, that sa twisted grimace of rage and pain still frozen on his face. If he'd just kept his mouth shut, he might've lived.
But if soone starts throwing around threats... leaving them alive is just asking for trouble.
And even if one of his buddies decides to co after later — well, that's still one less attacker in the pack.
"A-a-a-and the winne-e-e-er is Lord Hida-a-a-a-an!!! An unbelievable and bloody victory!"
After a brief mont of silence, the stands erupted in wild cheering. A few seconds later, a group of people rushed out from sowhere and carried the loser's body away on a stretcher.
And that's how my third day of fighting ca to an end. My next opponent for the day never showed up — vanished without a trace — so I was granted a technical win. That left only tomorrow's semifinal... and then the final. I'd be wrapping things up exactly one day before the Wave.
Let's just hope nothing unexpected happens to ss with my combat readiness. Life's a pretty unpredictable thing, after all...
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