Uhp, guess it's showtime again.
My peaceful meditation was for the 36th time interrupted by an abrupt silence, being no longer being surrounded by the chatter of remaining contestants. Said group had definitely dwindled in number by now in a big way however, thankfully lowering the overall decibel levels between rounds.
To be fair, I had a fair hand in the diminishing total of hopeful opponents. After defeating that bullshit teleporting halberd user in the 3rd fight, my focus only sharpened with each passing match.
It did take until my 19th fight to be met with some genuine competition however, in the form of a decent, clearly trained pugilist. Even with their skill, the spiked fisted fighter couldn't close the distance having to deal with my much longer swords. This also provided a golden opportunity to hone my Water Step form.
The pugilist would shuffle in a square, boxers stance with his spiked fists up at his cheeks. His aggressive approach marked every step forward as a possible strike, meaning I could always afford Water Stepping to evade and/or close the distance.
After dodging the pugilists flurry of punches for over 15 minutes, fatigue slowly crept up, signaling I end the match before making a costly mistake. The fighter certainly preferred throwing barrages of hooking punches, almost always leaving his ribs exposed. One sideways Water Step and a couple squelching stabs left the fighter gutturally gasping before collapsing. From there, I was teleported out once again.
Finding myself outside of the arena, I immediately found my designated spot and resumed my meditation while my last fight still fresh in my mind. It was shortly after studying the footwork vividly in my mind did I feel the same rush of…something in my veins as I'd felt in No-Face's table. Luckily the sensation was followed with a victorious ding, signaling I finally convinced whatever dictated skill development of water stepping's value, 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.
I felt my eyes flutter reading over the skill description. Particularly due to how personalized it felt, giving mention to not only the three pillars of health I subscribed to prior to the tournament, but Flow itself too. It acknowledged Flow not a breath after referencing some 'fundamental law' nonetheless, implying Flow's somehow involved in this law. Without warning, a tight pressure filled my skull like a sharp migraine, as a rush of knowledge over the skill washed over my mind. Part of which included the intuition this skill still only applied officially within the strict parameters of its description.
At first I wrote off the skill, feeling it was more of a formality than something useful. The boost in agility was technically equal to that of my Water Stance skill, yet I felt a slight discrepancy in speed between the two in favor of Water Step before becoming a 'skill'. Upon testing it's worth at the beginning of my 20th fight against a fellow rogue however, I realized I couldn't be more wrong.
Seeing no reason to leave room for doubt, activating the new skill washed my very first move. Shifting my flow forward, my intent was to close a large portion of the 15-foot gap between myself and the other rogue from a safe distance. Within moments I found myself 3 feet away in what felt like an instant, the man's delayed reaction only confirming.
Now, initially, seeing this guy not even flinch after I'd closed in so quickly brought back the memory of that teleporting warrior, Derrick. His face flashing before my eyes was like a jolt of danger and…I reacted in kind. I didn't intent on activating Lightning Strike, aiming directly for this poor guy's jugular at the tail end of my Water Step. Nor did I want his entire skull to explode from his neck up like a melon filled with bone fragments and C4.
The outline along my Wakizashi's illuminated changing from a white to dark blue. The impact of this gentleman's skull blowing up in my face was deeply distracting, the memory keeping me from using the same combination of skills until my 26th fight. It wasn't exactly optional anyways so, I'll have to chalk it up as a messy win.
Speaking of fight number 26, the only reason I rediscovered said combo was thanks to a Healer of all classes. It was an older gentleman, probably in his early 60's, with a full head of silver white hair neatly combed over. He wore an all white tunic set, with the boots and hood hanging along his back to match. Before any blows were thrown, I assumed him to be just another Mage. It wasn't until he refused to even participate that I 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." He said, sighing as if he'd grown annoyed at his own words. Scrunching my brow, I remorsefully replied, "no, old-timer, I'll make sure it's fast. Sorry about this."
Prior to stabbing my blade straight through the elders heart, a terrible anxiety invaded my mind. A screaming sense of terror for stabbing the guy outright, while he remained still and unbothered at my approach. My blade halted a few inches from the old man's chest, the glimmer dancing across his chin reflecting his hunched posture.
What the hell…why am I hesitating?
Unwilling to be caught flat footed, I threw a quick 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, shooting pain manifested throughout my calf. One I hadn't felt since…sparring last week? Applying pressure on my leg, another familiarity arose. Numbness, like the muscles simply functioned less in a certain area.
Wait a minute, when did HE calf kick ME?!
It was unmistakable, this ache and I had long been acquainted over this past year. The old timer hadn't even twitched, yet I knew my leg just took a hit. Or, at least suffered the consequences of one. Frustrated, I let another leg kick loose on the old man in a slower, more cautious manner. My leg swung out and around, with my shin headed straight for his calf. The moment after it connected, his hollow eyes scrunched painfully before another sharp wave shot through the back of MY calf.
"Ahh what the fuck?!" I shouted, scanning the old man for any hint how to beat this guy. For a second time in less than 10 damn fights, an opponent appears to find creative ways to negate my attacks.
"How the fuck are you doing that?!" I demanded, rubbing the back of my calf from a safe distance. Sighing once more, the old man shook his head as he replied.
"I do nothing. I simply wish for peace, this fighting is not the answer we all must seek. You're only hurting yourself, child."
Hurting myself. Pacifistic preaching. An unwillingness to even defend themselves.
Shit.
"You're a healer, aren't you?" I asked, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The old man drew a dropping, wrinkly smile at the question, raising a brow as he replied, "Oh, a smart cookie, how exciting." He lifted one finger upwards, gesturing a request for 'one second' before very slowly and shakily lowering himself down to his backside.
"Yes, I chose the healer class. I carry no means of harming anyone, nor the intent, and I made that very clear to the nice man in the suit." He finally answered.
Wait, how the hell did he even qualify to be here?!
"You're aware everyone here is supposedly selected from earth's top percent of capable humans. Haven't uh…haven't you questioned why you're here?" I asked, feeling myself beginning to grow agitated at the lack of consistency.
"Oh I know, the nice man told me all kinds of things before I came here. I'm not sure either, young buck, all I did was tend to my gardens and care for my wife. Ah, I miss her guidance dearly right now." The old man answered, shaking considerably more at the mention of his life partner. My jaw clenched, almost angered by the guilt trickling in by the moment.
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?" I offered, hoping to find a solution we both might enjoy. The idea seemed to strike the old man, as he immediately turned his eyes down to the floor, burying his wrinkly chin in his palm. After a long silence, he finally looked back up from the abyss.
"I would love nothing more. I'm very worried she's alone right now. But, the problem is no one can hurt me long, son. I feel the pain for a second, but then it all leaps back at whoever hurt me. I can't control it." He said as 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 considered 'fair'. How could someone who couldn't be hurt get to exist?! No one thus far was this overpowered, not even the Blonde in the black leather armor from the Arena surrounded by molten lava monsters was this terrifying. This had to be a mistake, a massive oversight on somebody's part. Except, he mentioned one thing that intrigued me.
"Hey, you said you feel it for just a second before the pain jumps out of you, right?" I asked, feeling a terrible idea stirring. The silver headed healer blinked quickly, rubbing his teary eyes.
"..uh-yeah, yeah just for a second." He answered in a mournful croak.
"Do you bleed for a second, too?" I continued to press. He looked puzzled at the question, falling right back into a deep contemplation for another few quiet seconds. With a snap of his fingers and a shaky-handed point, he blurted out, "Yes!! Yes when I was first put in here. An aggressive young man wasted little time stabbing me in my stomach, and I saw my blood begin to soak my clothing before he spit out his own blood and collapsed." He answered, only fueling my own wild, undoubtedly baseless theories.
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. Ready?" I asked, taking a few steps back and entering my fighters stance. He definitely didn't look prepared based on the considerably worse full-body shaking, his bony knees nearly clacking together. Who exactly he feared for was uncertain, but he bravely nodded anyway.
"Alright, tell the wife I said hello for me." I said through grin and a nod. With that, Water Step propelled my momentum toward him full speed. Lightning Strike erupted a streak of blue electricity across my blade lunging at his neck.
If someone technically kills this healer before his overpowered damage reflect skill activated, then theoretically I'd win. Of course, a loud voice that sounded a lot like Korbin kept emphasizing how massive of a gamble this was. I made a point to continually ignore said voice up until my second skill activated, marking the point of no return.
I have to full-commit, otherwise we'd be stuck together here limbo for the rest of the tournament, probably discussing how strange he found the world before all this. My charged stabbing strike flew out ant inhuman speed, carrying the same dark and light blue hue as last time.
The blades sharp tip made contact with the same spot I'd hit opponent number 20, intending to replicate the explosive outcome to the last detail. Wakizashi steel easily sliced through his windpipe, connecting to his spine, then dispersed the colored hue all at once into the Death-Deflecting Healer. A blinding white light illuminated in a flash, accompanied by a massive 'BANG'.
Hesitantly, I peaked through a gap on my raised arms to find the familiar crowd of contestants. Of course, now they were 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, asshole number 36.
"Now, why would you say something that?" I asked, genuinely questioning this guy's audacity. Since being forced to put down the kind old healer so many fights back, I've yet to let up. The nature of his insane skill was a wake up call, screaming there was no taking it easy. No jokes. I wasn't playing anymore. The fun died with him, someone I felt a strange amount of respect for, having never bothered to ask their name. His words carried such pain, albeit sweetly, 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. That everyone here would be alive and well when we're all in some supposed 'Tutorial'. They weren't even certain to be a threat, the evidence of that compiling with every corpse I've left to be blipped away. In fact, lately things felt more like training to defend myself and whoever I'm with after this optimally, even if winning still felt good. The idea of weaker than what put me and him here felt worse.
"Nah, I'm comin' here from the Metal-freaks arena. A lady there was cleanin' house too good and, the line looked shorter 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?" I asked, perking up at hearing she was doing just as well as I'd assumed.
"Huh? Uhh, yeah that's her." His relaxed demeanor morphed slowly into apprehension, grasping his own 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."I reassured with a pitied chuckle. His shoulders fell as he sighed visibly.
"What's her name, though?" I curiously questioned. 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." He replied in an angry, panicked tone.
Honestly, that's 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." He answered giddily, 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 jeered with a chuckle, wondering how in the fuck was he expecting to block. Sure his tricks look cool, and the range on those are probably deceptively vast. But what happens if I'm in close when his blades aren't? He didn't seem to appreciate my question as much as I had, angrily furrowing his brow.
"Won't be laughing long, the last loser I fought couldn't walk, talk, poor bastard couldn't do a thing except bleed, beg, and cry. 'Death by a thousand cuts' is bullshit, by the way. They always bleed out too quickly." He shot back through a raspy growl. An eyelid twitching, hatred immediately flooded my chest. Yet he persisted, giggling now at his own recollection.
"You should've seen it honestly, the little twerp. Couldn't be older than 19, damn slippery though. I'd wager the little shit was a track prodigy or something, ha-ha. Maybe next time I see him he'll have somewhere to run. YOU though, not so mu-"
His incessant rambling about himself were cut short as my fist cracked into his jaw, Water Stepping and dropping a Wakizashi. Bone splintered on impact as my first knuckle connected, sending his head into a floppy bobble.
Ensuring he wouldn't say anything stupid for the rest of this brutal lesson in abusing power, I dropped my second Wakizashi to floor, following up with a lead uppercut the other side of to his jaw. A brutal crack echoed from his whipping neck as the blow lifted him off his feet, falling straight on his back. He was clearly dancing between awake and unconscious, but he was still alive.
Strolling up to his twitching body, I ripped his weapons off his wrists and out of his hands, tossing them away blindly. They looked cool, but I could see multiple situations in which they'd be rendered utterly useless. This one, while being in the hands of such a self righteous monster, was my favorite worst case scenario I could think of. I slapped his face around for a while until his eyes shot open, followed by a hallowed sounding yelp.
"What's the matter, killer? I thought this shit was funny to you?" I angrily mocked. Grabbing him by both sides of his swollen cheeks, he lurched in pain as I lifted his ugly mug, whipping it around wildly feeling the shattered bones shift in my hands.
"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 his side to his stomach like dumping a wagon of dirt at a construction site.
"'He couldn't talk!'" I reminded him, smashing a heel against his chin. Sliding my self 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 pointed down towards him, locking my ankle in place with the back of my own knee and forming a triangular space where his knee rested on my hip under him.
Torquing back, his knee made a series of small snapping sounds ending 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. It was now that the bloody mess began sobbing.
"No no stop, you're skipping steps crying like that, we'll have to start over." I said, without thinking. Shuffling into a squat, I leaned down into his face.
"Now, say 'stop' coherently, and I'll kill myself right here, right now." I offered, snatching a Wakizashi and flipping the edge against my own gut. He whimpered, staring at me with blood and tear filled eyes.
Too late.
"Say it." I said, almost in a hush. He closed his eyes, letting a tear roll down once more. I slapped him, no skills attached.
"SAY IT." I demanded. 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.
"As I said, you can't talk." I mosied over to my weapons." Seems like all you're good for…," I stabbed into his shoulder, impaling my Wakizashi into the ground below.
"…is bleeding."
I squatted back down next to him, once more getting right inhis face.
"How you feel right now? Do you feel good? You think you made good decisions today?" I questioned, feeling a new anger toward being pushed to this point surfacing as I stared down at his tumbled face. My hands wrapped around his throat, slowly applying more and more pressure to his windpipe, feeling completely incensed by blinding rage.
"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 victims, but I know you are nothing." I barked at this sick fuck. His trachea collapsed in my hands before I was blipped out back of the arena. This time, not a single person dared look in my direction.
it wasn't like they had nothing to worry about. It's not like I want to hurt someone like that, not even a rabid dog deserved what I did. But that monster? The kind that dissects those weaker for fun, only to cower when faced with someone actually strong Fuck them, they're less than nothing as far as I'm concerned, and deserved more than what they got. I'd almost forgotten these kinds existed after having spent so much time considering the old man, but I needed this. A swift reminder as to why I was so serious from the beginning when I got here, a refresher of the full spectrum of human nature.
Only now something decided to give them power, when they many already confident enough already to wreak havoc on the weak before magic was involved. Yet 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.