Ilya greeted the crowd one last time before entering the pavilion. A warm sensation I thought I had lost in the past filled my chest. It was the same old sensation I felt when a “bad” student aced an assignment and slowly realized they weren’t “bad” students after all. Ilya hugged Elincia and gave Firana a self-satisfied look. The fact the spark of rivalry had kindled between them was a testament to Ilya’s level as a combatant.
I smiled. Ilya wasn’t the same girl I had met six months before, but, at the same time, she wasn’t diametrically different. Some kids needed to be pushed in the right direction, and others only needed to be given an opportunity to shine. Ilya was a hardworking leader even before I arrived at the orphanage. She only needed the chance to prove herself in the world of combatant Classes, and she aced it. Her fight was a masterclass in strategy, and I couldn’t give myself credit for anything.
“You did great,” I said, but Ilya locked me in an embrace that almost crushed my lower ribs. The scene reminded me of when I scored my first goal in a soccer match. It wasn’t an important match, but the memory had followed me since then.
Ilya let me go, her smile almost touching her ears. “I studied the Book of Classes. I had a contingency plan against the thirty most common Basic and a dozen Advanced Classes.”
“So, that’s why you taunted him to show his skills?” I asked, surprised. I assumed Ilya was trying to get under his skin to mess with his focus.
“I needed to know where and how to use my vines, especially without showing how many times I can use them this early in the tournament,” Ilya replied with a mischievous smile as she sat on the bench.
I looked over the weapons rack. Lord Nara was livid. Zaon scored a seven-point lead, and Ilya added another six. Our team was thirteen points ahead, with only two combats left. The chances of throwing away the bracket were slim but not zero. The previous match-ups favored us, but the Archer Class was a hard counter to Wolf despite not being the best Class.
The Master of Ceremonies called the next fight, and Wolf stood up. The kids wished him good luck, and Elincia gave him the usual kiss on the forehead before we walked to the weapons rack to gear up. Wolf tested a broader longsword before going for an even broader one. He could easily control the heavy swords designed for high-level combatant Classes.
“This will be a hard fight, Wolf. Try to close the distance between you and your opponent as fast as possible. Archers have long-range skills that don’t require a bow,” I said, glancing at Team Nara’s Archer. He was testing a rapier while Lord Nara frantically whispered in his ear.
Archers had a wide assortment of ranged skills that might not be strong enough against high-level monsters but useful in a duel against a classless half-orc. Wolf nodded. His calm demeanor was the perfect opposite of Zaon’s.
“Risha gave us a lesson on fighting long-range classes while you were recovering. Even if I lose a couple of barriers, I might be able to get in melee in three or four seconds,” he said as he examined his sword. “You don’t bring a bow to a swordfight.”
“You don’t bring a bow to a swordfight,” I replied.
Across the arena, the Master of Ceremonies was exchanging a word with a small group of royal aides. I used [Awareness] to read his lips, but the man quickly covered his mouth with a hand. Despite our somewhat secure position under the protection of the royalist faction, I couldn’t help but feel unease. A poor orphanage wasn’t supposed to beat a team of nobleborns, even if it was a new arrival to House Osgiria.
The conversation between the officials was going to take some time.
“Are you excited about returning home, Wolf?” I asked. The kids were far enough not to hear our conversation. Wolf hadn’t announced his departure yet.
“I miss the mountains, but I don’t know anymore,” he replied, glancing at the bench where Elincia and the girls tried to get Zaon to drink some water. “Lately, I have been feeling more human than an orc. I have been watching the south and the east, away from the Farlands, wondering what is over there.”
Orcs were the masters of the mountain and forest. They had developed a culture that perfected survival in the Farlands, refusing the boons of the System and carving a place with their own hands. Humans in this world were the opposite. They accepted the System and went wide, raising kingdoms and pushing the Farlands away from their inner cities, bending nature to their designs.
“Mother never talked about my father, but I listened to my aunts and uncles,” Risha said. It was the first or second time he had brought up his father in conversation. “I think my father left the tribes to see the rest of the world. He was a Scholar, just like you, Mister Clarke. I might be just like him.”
Samuel Byrne, the owner of the cabin that brought me to this world and Wolf’s father, might still be alive. His journals pointed in that direction, and even the System Avatar confirmed that theory when we first met. Samuel Byrne had been offered the same Runeweaver powers as me, meaning he wouldn’t be hard to find if he were alive. Whether I liked it or not, a crumb trail of powerful enchanted artifacts wouldn’t be easy to hide.
“Let’s talk it over with Elincia after the tournament. We will have all our cards then. There’s no need to rush a decision,” I said. “And being curious about the world isn’t a bad thing. Many great men and women have devoted their lives to push the boundaries of what was known.”
Wolf gave me one of his unusual smiles. “That’s good wisdom.”
The Master of Ceremonies stood in the middle of the arena and called forth the participants.
“Don’t worry if you end up behind on the scoreboard; just try to break as many barriers as possible,” I said.
“I’ll try to maintain our advantage,” Wolf replied, shouldering his sword and entering the arena.
Team Nara’s Archer wielded a long rapier and a dagger in his offhand. It was not a strange combination by any stretch of the imagination, but how he wielded the dagger was weird. Instead of the usual five-finger grip, he pressed the handle between his thumb and middle fingers while his index rested over the blade.
The Master of Ceremonies cleared his throat and presented the combatants. After Zaon and Ilya’s fights, the crowd slowly tilted in our favor. Still, cheering for a group of orphans over a lord tied to House Osgiria rubbed some spectators the wrong way. Wolf didn’t seem to care one way or another. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms, and saluted when the Master of Ceremonies called his name.
Across the arena, Ginz almost fell over the handrail of the VIP box again. Some nobles were uncomfortable with his display of excitement, and others seemed entertained by it. Even if the nobles would bar Ginz from the VIP box, he was a hell of a great hype man. I made a mental note to increase his allowance for exotic crafting materials.
The combat was about to start. Lord Nara stopped unleashing his rage against Arel and focused on the arena. The idea of offering him the surrender crossed my mind, but I quickly discarded it. I had enough with the anti-loyalist faction and Kellaren Odrac-Aias breathing down my neck without another personal enemy. Small animals had to go unnoticed to survive against bigger predators, but I doubted we were doing a great job in the stealth department. We needed to demonstrate we could bite back.
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“Fight!” The Master of Ceremonies yelled, his voice magically amplified.
Wolf shot forward just as the Archer channeled mana around his feet and jumped back. [Dash] was a watered-down version of [Quick-step]. Instead of an almost instant step, [Dash] allowed the user to increase their speed for longer. The Archer retreated almost at the same speed Wolf charged. I cursed. At the current rate, Wolf would need more than three seconds to cover the distance between them, which left him open to ranged attacks.
As soon as the [Dash] skill ended, the Archer’s dagger gleamed with a bright white light. He planted his feet on the ground and threw a phantom dagger that hit Wolf between the eyes. A barrier broke, but Wolf didn’t slow down or even blink. The Archer cursed and activated [Dash] to spring away from Wolf.
The distance between them had shrunk, if only slightly.
As [Dash] ended, the Archer summoned a phantom knife. He was using the dagger in his hand as a medium to aim the skill. That explained the weird hand grip. The Archer threw the dagger at the same spot between the eyes, but this time, Wolf was prepared. He raised his sword and blocked the phantom dagger with the hilt.
Wolf saved a barrier and gained another meter before the Archer used [Dash] for the third time. Despite the rough match-up, Wolf had the best mindset for this kind of combat. Orc stoicism was the right state of mind for a battle of attrition. The mana pool of a Level 3 Archer wasn’t deep enough to cast repeated dashes and phantom blades.
The third blade hit Wolf’s leg, and the fourth his shoulder. The barriers shattered like blue-tinted glass, turning into fine dust before the shards could touch the ground. The Archer continued with the barrage. He couldn’t cast [Dash] and summon the phantom daggers simultaneously, so he had to stop between dashes to attack. Wolf gained meter after meter until the Archer had to parry Wolf’s thrust instead of throwing a dagger.
“You got me,” the Archer panted, planting his feet on the ground and extending his rapier. “What’s the deal with you, orphans?”
“What do you mean?” Wolf asked, keeping his guard up.
“The blonde elf. He is classless, yet he has a Lv.3 [Longsword Mastery] at least,” the Archer said, jumping to the side and trying for a quick thrust against Wolf’s hands that missed by a sliver. “I can understand the System blessing some of their favorite subjects even before they get a Class, but Lv.3? That’s outrageous.”
Wolf stepped forward, but the Archer dissuaded him from advancing with the point of his rapier.
“Zaon wishes he had a Lv.3 [Longsword Mastery]. He’s Lv.2,” Wolf said, circling his opponent. “What about you?”
“I have Lv.1 [Fencing],” the Archer replied. “And there’s no way the blonde elf is only Lv.2 [Longsword Mastery]. I have seen enough low-level fighters in House Nara to recognize a Lv.2 mastery.”
Wolf attempted a feint, but the rapier stopped him. Rapiers were one of the scariest swords to face; it was almost like facing a poisonous viper. The blade's reach and the trust's swiftness were hard to fight around.
“Wolf! Focus on thrusting work! Avoid cuts at all costs!” I yelled from the sideline. A longsword user had to adapt to the rapier technique; otherwise, parrying would have been virtually impossible.
Wolf adopted the pflug guard, one foot in front, knees slightly bent, and arms extended forward. A broad blade might not have been the right choice for this matchup. Despite Wolf’s strength, thrusting didn’t require the most muscle but the quickest blade.
The Archer took the lead and jumped forward, arm extended. Wolf parried and took a step back to avoid the sword's tip. Wolf regained the lost ground, pushing forward, but his opponent swiftly retreated. Then, the dance repeated back and forth, both combatants trying to find an opening while avoiding any risky maneuvers. The frantic steps kicked up dust until it was hard to see what was happening in the arena.
“You haven’t told me what level your mastery is,” the Archer said, spinning the knife in his hand and adopting a traditional grip.
“I told you Zaon’s level, though,” Wolf replied, thrusting and retreating before the Archer could counter.
“Fair enough,” the Archer shrugged. “I’ll try to guess.”
Wolf thrusted, and his opponent deflected to the side. Then, instead of retreating, Wolf pulled his sword back before the counter and hit the Archer’s arm. The fight continued; Wolf and his opponent fought cautiously, moving back and forth, trying to find the slightest opening in their defenses. Elincia squeezed my hand. The balance could tilt in any direction.
The Archer broke one of Wolf’s barriers but got caught in the retreat by Wolf’s afterblow. I smiled. When Wolf scored, he was able to get out, but when his opponent scored, Wolf was able to capitalize on the temporary opening in his opponent’s defense.
“He’s using the secret technique!” Zaon said, back into the world of the living.
“He’s just fencing normally,” Firana replied.
“In a duel with points, his opponent might be awarded the point in the last exchange, but this isn’t a duel with points,” Zaon explained. “Your opponent’s defenses are open when he attacks. If you manage to counter fast enough, you’ll score a point every time your opponent scores one. It’s basic fencing, really.”
“That’s a stupid secret technique,” Ilya pointed out.
“If it's stupid but works, it’s not stupid,” Zaon replied.
Elincia raised an eyebrow. My old instructors always told us to continue fighting until the referee called the stop, not when we felt the opponent touched us. Some hits didn’t count as points due to their lack of strength. If both hits happened very close to each other, none counted as points. My old instructors might have been over-competitive, but the honor system was overridden when a referee was present.
“It’s not against the rules,” I pointed out.
Elincia audibly rolled her eyes.
Wolf and the Archer had similar skill levels, but Wolf took advantage of his opponent's attacks to score points on his own. Barrier after barrier, the difference in the scoreboard decreased. Wolf managed to put his strength to work by binding his blade to his opponent’s and somewhat forcing certain angles of attack. When the Archer tried to dodge, Wolf followed, and if he was too slow, Wolf managed to break a barrier.
By the end of the fight, Wolf had one last barrier, while the Archer had two. The crowd might not be as excited as during Ilya’s fight due to the lack of flashy skills, but this was the cream of the crop for the fencers. Several lords were lively commenting on the combat in the pavilion.
“I think I’m ready to guess your mastery level,” the Archer said, sweeping the sweat off his forehead. “Lv.2 [Longsword Mastery].”
“Warm,” Wolf replied. He didn’t show any signs of tiredness.
“Lv.1? No way. I’m Lv.1 [Fencing], and you are way better than me,” a confused expression was drawn on the Archer’s face. “You’ll make a good Warrior or Fencer.”
Wolf grinned. “I’m not getting a Class. My people don’t deal with Corruption.”
The Archer went from confusion to surprise. “Fair enough. It was a good fight, though.”
“Are you surrendering?” Wolf tightened his grip, standing in the balls of his feet, ready to parry.
“To survive as a shitty Class, you have to keep a couple of tricks under your sleeve.”
A silver mana arrow materialized a few meters to Wolf’s right side. The boy raised his sword to protect himself, but the Archer lunged at the same time. The arrow never shot, but the Archer’s rapier broke Wolf’s last barrier. Wolf’s eyes shot wide open, but couldn’t react in time.
“The winner of the match is Jan the Archer!” The Master of Ceremonies announced.
The Archer’s legs faltered and fell to his knees, prey of Mana Depletion. Wolf grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him to stand up. Together, they walked to the VIP box and saluted Prince Adrien before returning to the pavilion. Members of Team Nara grabbed their companion, and Wolf returned to us.
“He Ilya’d me. I’m sorry,” Wolf said.
“I would’ve avoided Mana Depletion, unlike that amateur,” Ilya replied, not happy at all with the comparison. “You should’ve left him eating dust.”
“If we want to get the support of the nobility, we can’t go around smacking them,” Wolf replied.
Ilya pouted and muttered something along the lines of ‘I’ll do it again’.
Before I could congratulate Wolf for his performance, Sir Janus barged into the pavilion.