The spectators continued cheering and whistling even minutes after the fight had come to an end. Zaon had caught the crowd by surprise. He was going to be the talk of Farcrest for the rest of the week. The perfect underdog, classless, orphaned, a bit awkward even, coming up victorious against the tyranny of levels. But that was only part of the picture. Zaon had demonstrated the vast difference in skills between him and a combatant nine levels ahead of him.
The victory put us seven points ahead, but what mattered the most going forward was the three points Zaon had lost. Team Nara’s Soldier might not be half as a competent fencer as Zaon but his proficiency with Quick-Step had given him three undisputed points. The Soldier knew when to use the skill to reap the most benefit, and I assumed all our opponents would be the same going forward.
The more skills our opponents had, the harder it would be for the kids.
“Contenders, please enter the arena,” the Master of Ceremonies’ voice echoed over the crowd’s roar. “Ilya the Hunter versus Arel Nara the Warrior!”
Despite Zaon’s victory, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. The Warrior class had a better skill pool than the Soldier class. Ilya grabbed my hand, cutting my musings short.
“Something wrong?”
I examined her face, but she just gave me a nonchalant wink and pulled me to my feet.
“Play along,” Ilya muttered as we walked to the weapons rack holding hands. “Act as if you are choosing a weapon for me. Give me the same sword as Zaon.”
Ilya was trying to fool her opponent even before the match started.
I played along and walked Ilya to the weapons rack like a father dragging his daughter to the dentist. She took the bit about ‘all war is based on deception’ too seriously, but I couldn’t blame her. Ilya had to gather every slight advantage she could if she wanted a chance in a world of average-height people.
Her act worked because Arel Nara seemed to smell her weakness as soon as we reached the weapons rack.
“Have you lost your bravado, little Gnome?” Arel Nara said as he casually grabbed an arming sword with a broad blade from the rack. The boy had the same vulpine expression as Lord Nara, but unlike his lord, his yellow and black fencing uniform revealed his strong arms and legs.
Ilya cowered behind me without letting my hand go. The System should’ve given her the Actress or Spy Class.
“Just what I thought,” Arel Nara laughed. He had grabbed a round shield and an arming sword. “It seems I won’t need this,” he added, leaving the shield back on the weapons rack and strolling into the arena with a carefree demeanor.
Lord Nara, who until that moment was furious due to the first combat, seemed to relax after seeing Ilya cowering behind me.
“Your sword is longer than his, Ilya. Aim for his hands and feet, and don’t let him close the distance. Don’t let him disarm you,” I whispered as I put the slim longsword in Ilya’s hand. “And don’t let him get under your skin.”
Ilya grunted.
“I already know, Mister Clarke! I’m used to having the reach disadvantage and to that sort of comment. I know how to fight against stronger opponents, and he isn’t half of a trash talker as Holst was,” Ilya said with an evil smile. “I got this.”
“Teach him a lesson,” I replied with a smile.
Ilya nodded and gave me her best ‘I’m-on-the-verge-of-tears’ face before turning around and walking to the center of the arena. Despite her tailor-made uniform and the longsword on her shoulder, Ilya looked completely out of place, like a small bird caught in a storm. With a shaky smile, she stood before Arel Nara, raised her chin, and squared her shoulders. I made a mental note telling her to keep her acting shenanigans to combat.
I returned to the bench, avoiding Elincia’s glance. The Fortifier applied the barriers around Ilya’s body. As before, the work wasn’t bad; it was just sloppy on the edges. The difference would be too subtle to catch for anyone without a good grasp of mana detection. Even if I complained now, the Fortifier could brush me off, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t brewing a plan.
“She’s using that technique, uh?” Firana said.
“What technique?” I asked, sitting on the bench and patting Zaon’s shoulder. The boy leaned back with a towel on his face, still trying to control his accelerated heartbeat.
“Shu has been helping Ilya with her acting skills.”
I massaged my temples, worried. The news wasn’t at all surprising. I was already familiar with the little harpy shenanigans. Shu might already be a genius of manipulation at the young age of seven, but I didn’t foresee the little harpy teaching her dark arts to others.
Arel Nara greeted the crowd, his perfect smile reeking of overconfidence. Then, he walked to the Prince’s box with sluggish movements and bowed deeply. Arel Nara might be a braggart, but not a complete fool. He deliberately stalled combat as much as possible while Ilya trembled like a leaf with her longsword tight against her chest.
The Master of Ceremonies let the performance continue for a few seconds, unaware of the fact the battle had already started.
“Combatants, to the center!” He finally announced.
Arel Nara strolled back to the center of the arena, mindlessly swinging his sword and stretching his shoulders. Ilya remained still.
“The fight will end when one of the participants runs out of barriers. There will be no pause between barrier breaks. If you want to give up, raise your hand,” the Master of Ceremonies repeated the rules, looking at Ilya. “On guard!”
Ilya imitated Zaon’s guard, the pflug, not giving her opponent a single hint of the skills she had on her sleeve.
“Fight!”
Ilya stepped forward and swung at Arel Nara’s shin. The boy raised his leg out of the way and countered with a jumping attack that landed on Ilya’s chest. The girl fell on her back, but instead of going for the following attack, Arel Nara turned his back to Ilya and riled up the crowd.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Ilya used her sword to stand up. When she raised her guard, Arel Nara spun around, pushing her sword to the side. Ilya answered with a choreographed thrust, but Arel Nara dodged with enough time to get to Ilya’s side and deal a powerful blow with the pommel of his sword.
Ilya slammed the ground again, her uniform and face covered in dust. The crowd was ruthless, cheering for the strongest warrior. The underdog concept didn’t seem to exist in this world, which wasn’t surprising considering that underdogs, lesser Classes, had marginal opportunities to win against a more powerful opponent.
Ilya was two barriers down.
“You chose the wrong Class, Gnome. Your kind belongs to a workshop, not the battlefield.” Arel Nara taunted Ilya. “I don’t know what lies your Caretaker whispered in your ears, so let me be clear. You are falling short of the mark.”
Ilya separated her feet and adopted the vom tag guard, angering her opponent.
“You asked for it,” Arel Nara grunted as a wave washed over the Warrior’s body, and with a mighty cry, he cast a fortifying spell.
Ilya assessed the situation instantly and channeled her power but didn’t use any skill. She remained vigilant. Arel Nara performed a jumping thrust followed by a quick slash. Ilya parried the first attack and ducked in time to dodge the follow-up.
The crowd yelled for blood, but Ilya used her longer blade to keep Arel Nara at bay, aiming at his hand instead of his body. It was a clever tactic. She not only had the reach advantage, but a longsword packed the power of both arms, unlike the arming sword used with a single hand. Arel Nara burned his mana trying to break Ilya’s defense, but the girl was used to fighting against Wolf and Firana.
Being the ‘worst’ student had its benefits. During sparring, Ilya always fought larger, stronger, or more skillful opponents, and she had developed a system to make up for the difference in body span. Ilya’s defensive style was perfect for zoning out aggressive opponents. Moreover, Ilya was a smart fighter.
Arel Nara burned his mana to get a hit, but Ilya defended like a porcupine. The more Arel Nara approached, the more chances he had of getting stung, and he wasn’t willing to lose a single barrier against Ilya. Not taking a shield was costing him dearly. Longswords had a bad matchup against an arming sword paired with a shield.
Arel Nara attacked once more, unleashing a flurry of strikes. Ilya retreated, dodging and blocking, but the fortifying spell wasn’t in vain. Arel Nara pushed Ilya’s sword aside and seized the opening on the girl’s defense. With a quick step forward, he secured a clean slash across Ilya’s chest. The girl tried to riposte, but he retreated before she could hit.
Ilya was three barriers down and hadn’t broken a single one yet.
Arel Nara’s assault was relentless, and Ilya was starting to breathe heavily; dust and sweat covered her, and even her stance was getting sloppy at times. Ilya was a more skilled fighter, but Arel Nara’s stamina was superior; a prolonged fight would only benefit him.
“Not that good without a bow, are you?” Arel Nara taunted. “What are you going to do? Cast Piercing Shot with a sword?”
“I’m not the one running out of mana,” Ilya spoke for the first time in the combat.
Her words were a slap against Arel Nara’s face, who instantly interrupted the fortifying skill.
“You need four times your mana for that skill to have any effect in this fight,” Ilya taunted him. “You should try something else. Quick-step? Puncture, maybe? No? Even a Level 5 Soldier should have two or three skills at their disposal. Don’t tell me you decided to participate in the tournament with a single skill, please.”
Ilya’s taunt worked. Despite being three barriers down, she had made Arel Nara work hard for them.
“You asked for it,” Arel Nara said, channeling mana around his sword.
Ilya raised his guard, with the hilt of her sword at eye level and the point of the sword aiming forward. Ochs. She braced for the attack, but Arel Nara remained still. Then, he let the sword go, but it didn’t fall. Instead, the sword floated by his side, pointing menacingly at Ilya.
“I’m not a Soldier. I’m a Warrior,” Arel Nara grunted.
The sword flew in a straight line like a bullet, but Ilya blocked it. What she didn’t expect was Arel Nara running forward. The boy channeled mana and cast Iron Skin around his leg as he threw a high kick. Ilya leaned back, dodging by millimeters, but before she could counter against her unarmed opponent, Arel Nara’s sword flew back at her, stabbing her shoulder blade and breaking the fourth barrier.
Arel Nara smirked.
“Your choice, getting kicked or stabbed,” he said. “Forget that. For a Gnome, getting kicked might be more appropriate.”
Ilya smirked back. “That’s it? If you have any hidden skill, I warn you, this might be the moment to use it.”
The arming sword came back to life, spinning and circling Ilya, threatening to attack at any moment. Ilya remained impassive. She had prepared a plan. Mana surged from her chest, and just as the blade launched forward, a thick vine shot from the ground. The sword pierced the vine from side to side, but before Arel Nara could yank it back, the vine coiled around the blade like a boa constrictor.
Arel Nara strengthened his body and made a run for the sword, but Ilya stood in his way.
“Did you lose something, idiot?” She grinned as she thrusted.
Arel Nara cast Iron Skin and blocked Ilya’s blade with his forearm. The skill shrouded his barriers, preventing them from breaking, but the girl didn’t stop. She weaved a series of attacks and feints in a single fluid movement. Arel Nara retreated, casting Iron Skin around his arms and legs to block Ilya’s blows. Each time Ilya swung the sword, a chunk of Arel’s mana was blasted into the air until the signs of Mana Exhaustion started to show. Ilya ran him down, and the boy’s movements became erratic.
In a desperate last attempt to recover his sword, Arel Nara channeled all his remaining mana into the blade and tried to overpower Ilya’s vine; however, the girl effortlessly countered with her much bigger reserves. Sword and vine fought, but in the end, the vine imprisoned the blade against the ground.
“Your choice, surrender or get stabbed by a Gnome,” Ilya mockingly said.
[Awareness] brought Ilya’s words to my ears. A quick lesson in sportsmanship might be needed, but I decided to leave it for later. Ilya was making a statement. Not only was she a competent fencer, but she was also an intelligent fighter. The best part: she only used a fraction of her power.
Arel Nara gestured to raise his hand, but Ilya smacked it down with her sword before he could completely raise it: one barrier down, nine to go. Arel Nara opened her eyes in surprise. Ilya pressed the attack, breaking barrier after barrier until Arel Nara was left with only one. The spectators changed sides the moment the tides turned, roaring every time Ilya penetrated a barrier.
Arel Nara was trapped against the arena wall.
“I care very little about what you say about me, but I will not tolerate any ill comments against Mister Clarke. Idiot.” Ilya said, lowering her sword. “You have two options now. You can surrender or make a further fool of yourself trying to retrieve your sword.”
It had been a while since one of my students made me blush.
Arel Nara unenthusiastically raised his hand and returned to the pavilion with his head down before the Master of Ceremonies could announce his defeat. Ilya retrieved Arel Nara’s sword, or rather made the vine do it for her, and walked to the Prince’s box. She performed a gracious bow and saluted the spectators with an innocent smile. I couldn’t decide if the crowd was happy for Ilya or gloating at Arel Nara’s defeat.
Among the seats of the high nobility, Ginz leaned over the handrail with half of his body outside the box. A member of the royal army frantically grabbed him by the belt to prevent him from falling into the arena. Ginz would’ve made a great English hooligan if he had been born in London or its surroundings. I couldn’t help but share the feeling, but my position required me to maintain a certain level of composure.
Ilya skipped toward Ginz and high-fived him before returning to the pavilion.