Your opponent has successfully countered right cross!

Your opponent deftly dodges left hook!

Your opponent fades away from haymaker!

You fail to parry kidney shot!

You fail to counter Tiger Claw strike! (You have saved versus suffocation from hammered esophagus!)

You fail to counter crescent kick!

You have been sent cartwheeling through the air!

It was all Eric could do not to throw up after Moray’s foot came damned close to dislocating his jaw, sending him flying through the air. Yet what hurt almost as bad as the furious wrench to his neck and his desperate gasps for air as Unified Restoration worked over time to keep his bruised organs and throbbing ribs intact, was the look of jaded disappointment in Moray’s face.

“Seriously, kid? This is the best you can do?”

Eric swallowed his angry retort, because save a few brief halcyon weeks in a cultivation rift he had somehow forged into a mirror world, he had absolutely no tutors or trainers or any way forward, save by surviving by the seat of his pants.

So instead he flashed a bitter smile, forcing himself forward. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you all the exciting opportunities to learn and grow that your allies are more than eager to give their newly ascending neighbors.”

The man snorted coldly. “So, now you’re going to wine about having to fight to get the resources you need?”

Eric’s eyes flashed, before he wrenched control of his frustration, refusing to charge in like a stupid fool, his smile now matching Moray’s own, already knowing the only message the man would respect from him. The message of perseverance, struggling past all adversity.

So Eric gamely pressed on, refusing to back down, no matter how often Moray parried his strikes with contemptuous ease, shin checking his angle kicks like the amateur shots that they were, even with Eric’s 400 Finesse. Certainly that didn’t mean shit when his opponent had 600 in that very stat and thousands of hours of training as Moray whipped around so fast with a spinning heel kick that if Eric hadn’t listened to his screaming Danger Sense and ducked, the fight would have been over right then and there… and perhaps his life as well.

“Eric! Be careful!”

A terrified voice from the huddled masses, Vincent’s wife the only one who dared to speak, for all that Eric was attempting to do just that.

Yet his foe’s icy gaze was now void of humor or mercy, and whatever brief moment of camaraderie they had shared, he was now most definitely fighting like a man eager for the kill.

Willpower check successful! You have turned fear to focus!

Find Weakness skillcheck: Failed! Your opponent is MUCH more experienced at this art than you!

Yet Eric found it in himself to tune out all extraneous distractions as he weaved past a spinning backfist that would have shattered his jaw, only to be caught by a liver shot that sent him cartwheeling way.

Power Healing engaged! (Good thing you have so much potency saved up from your last fight!)

Yet to Moray’s surprise, Eric kept getting up.

No matter how many times the mercenary captain knocked him on his ass, sent him flying with a strike to his jaw, solar plexus, or kidney that should have ended him… Eric never gave up.

No matter how much exhaustion clawed at his psyche, or how much pain gnawed at his reflexes.

He forced himself to fight.

To focus.

To learn.

Until he was finally able to block at least a few of Moray’s bone cracking blows, and weave past even more.

His shin checks finally began paying off in countering at least a few snapping kicks, and even if the gut punches were still sending him flying, he was learning how to roll with the blows.

Time seemed to flow in an endless dance, one that Eric was far from mastering, but at least he was learning the steps, learning to embrace the flow. Even Moray’s hard gaze softened into something that was almost a smile, eyes lighting up with a flash of… something… before he gave a shout, eyes suddenly wild like fire, his fist abruptly moving so fast that Eric was airborne before he could think… and Eric already knew the fight was over.

He crashed to the ground, dizzy and wheezing for breath.

The trial of fists had drawn to its conclusion.

Now it was time for the second and final act of the night.

Eric couldn’t help smiling when he heard Moray’s chuckle so close that his reeling senses were screaming in warning. For the man was no longer standing in the center of his circle, clearly the custom of his people when dueling. Now the man was right behind Eric who was desperately doing all he could to snap back into focus, inhaling the sharp winter air smelling of pine trees, shredded loam, frost and blood… his blood. And another scent as well. Or perhaps the absence of scent that was it’s own blaring warning. For mithril, near transcendent in structure, lost no atoms with use, so pristine and noble it reacted with very little at all, from what Eric could tell. Which meant that it had absolutely no smell at all.

Only the sound of a lock snapping open with superhuman speed.

“Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. A few more years and you might actually amount to something. And hell. You were strong enough, rippling with so much potential, that you were exactly what I needed.”

Eric forced a soft chuckle, still stumped over, not having to fake exhaustion too hard, even as every muscle tingled with pent explosive force.

Explosive force that his now snorting opponent, able to read him so well, had already countered a score of times before.

“So, I guess the trial of fists is over, and I’ll be the first to admit it… I lost. Round one is yours, Moray. Congratulations.”

This earned a snort. “Don’t get cute, kid. It’s over. But don’t worry. I’m a man of my word. Your sister’s newest recruits can go free.”

Eric suppressed a shiver, realizing that Moray knew far more than any White-tier opponent should. “So. Trial of mithril then.”

Eric turned around, but Moray was already charging forward, a right hook catching Eric under the solar plexus, as Eric knew it would, just in time for his left hand to snap a mithril collar around Eric’s neck.

OR try to… before clanging against an object that had the merc’s eyes widening in sudden disbelief as the massive crowd of hooting and roaring humanoids who had so enjoyed watching Eric get his comeuppance went dead silent, the tension suddenly so thick that Eric could cut it with a knife.

Or the mithril nodachi with four feet of razor sharp mithril shimmering with higher order concepts now twisting free the mithril collar from hands spraying blood as Eric’s blade rested against a suddenly speechless Moray’s throat.

Quickness check made!

Burst of Strength in effect!

You have successfully surprised your opponent!

Moray gazed at Eric for long, disbelieving minutes, taking a slow breath, remarkably calm for a man who had just lost two fingers and a thumb, with blood coursing from the shallowest of cuts from a neck cut from a blade that had a hell of a lot more presence since it had ascended alongside Eric into realms of Silver and, for the briefest of moments, Gold.

Moray gazed at Eric for long moments as a young desperate voice filled the nighttime air.

“Please don’t kill him! Please!”

Moray roared with sudden laughter, never mind the blood welling from the ever deepening cut. “Oh you’re a clever one, boy! Trial of mithril indeed. And how the hell did you get your hands on an artifact radiating higher order concepts even I can feel shrieking against my soul?”

Eric forced a tense smile. “You chose a mithril slave collar, I chose a blade. And here we are now. So, Moray, what’s the play? Fair warning, I’m a tad bit better with my sword than I am with my fists.”

This earned a snort. “You’d almost have to be. You need a fuck ton of work, boy. Especially with your kicks.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

The man’s laughter died off, gazing at Eric with a thousand yard stare. “I guess we’re even then.”

“I guess so.”

“Call it a draw?”

“If that means we both leave the field peacefully and Queensland remains ‘in play’ for the rest of the night, neither side claiming it, then that’s fine.”

Moray gave an infinitesimal nod. “Good.” He took a deep breath, gazing at Eric carefully before stepping away… only to find himself jostled by the girl shaking and sobbing and holding him so tightly from behind that there could be no doubt as to what he meant to her.

Eric gave Moray a look.

The merc winced. “It’s strictly professional.”

“Sure it is.”

“So, you gonna get the hell out of here, or not?”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Eric smirked. “Good doing business with you, Moray. Sorry about your crew.”

The man’s eyes flashed.

“No, I mean it. I… shit. Social Perception’s making it clear I really bungled that one, right?”

“Eric, come on. Let’s just go!” Hissed the panicked elven woman who had stuck up for him more than once and who’s name he really should learn.

With a final awkward glance at the glaring merc, and why the hell was Eric the one flushing like an embarrassed kid who had just made a fool of himself? He was a hero who had just taken on and gotten the best of a 35th level Bronze tier mercenary! Sort of.

Maybe.

Why the hell hadn’t his perks shut his yapping mouth?

“Fuck, that was awkward.”

This earned a snort from the Japanese girl by a pale-faced Sven’s side. “Baka.”

Eric smirked, leading the train of some two thousand odd people away from the presently retreating humanoid contingent, rapidly approaching the howling storm Eric knew he’d need every iota of his power to pierce.

“You just called me an idiot, didn’t you? Can’t fool me. I watched subbed not dubbed. Because I have class.”

This earned a half-mocking chuckle from the blond, flanking Sven’s other side. She gave Eric a frank look. “And you’re just as classy as they come, aren’t you?”

Eric winked. “I try,” he said, pretending he didn’t sense the way Sven was absolutely wilting before him, or the way his girls were hovering around him so protectively, engaging in pointless banter with him to shield their man. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to point it out or tease them for it, Social Perception pinging him when he actually listened to his instincts.

This earned a smirk. “Yeah, you’re just winging it all by the seat of your pants, aren’t you?”

Eric winced. “Yeah… pretty much.”

“You know you scared the fuck out of my boyfriend, right?”

“Kim, stop!”

Eric sighed, carefully not meeting their gaze. “Yeah. I know.”

“You know why, right?”

Eric swallowed. “I didn’t have a choice. If I hadn’t fired… that cannon would have.”

The blond girl exchanged a look with her brunet counterpart. “It’s a fair point.”

The Japanese girl nodded, gently squeezing a pale-faced Sven’s hand.

Sven clenched his jaw, glaring Eric’s way. “So, we’re next, huh?”

Eric gave him a look. “Jeezus, I think you fumbled your social role more than I did!”

Sven blinked at this, before his eyes widened. “Fuck, I just did!” He turned to the Japanese girl. “Could you talk to him, Kim? I don’t have the skill ranks for this.”

The girl in question gave Eric a wry half-smile. “That’s okay. His social skills suck ass too.”

“That’s not true!” Eric declared. “I have multiple social perks and… wait, both of you are named Kim? Doesn’t that get confusing?”

“No, it doesn’t, since we’re soul linked. Besides, my beautiful buxom partner in crime was Christened Kimberly. And how many girls did you charm with your suave ass skills before the incursions started?”

Eric gazed at a smirking Kim for long moments. “Does all the groupies mother dearest coaxed into my bed count?”

The blond gave him a look. “Eww.”

Kim snorted. “Dude, who the fuck are…” She blinked, giving Eric a slow once over. “Fuck me twice, you’re him!”

“Is that actually an expression? Because you already have two paramours so…”

This earned a scowl. “Now, you’re just being a wise ass.”

Eric grinned and cracked his neck, enjoying the feel of the frigid ground tickling his toes. “No comment.”

Sven scowled. “Wait, who is he?”

“Eric Silver! Elonia Silver’s loser brother? Can’t act, dropped out of school, streamed for a bit then dropped off the face of the earth?”

Eric’s cheeks blazed. “Harsh, man. That’s real fucking harsh.”

“Anyway, what Sven’s trying to say is… are you planning on sucking down our sweet sweet power like a Highlander screaming ‘There can only be one?’”

Eric gave her a long look. “First of all, can we agree that the TV show was pretty sweet and the second movie was a fucking travesty?”

This earned a hot-eyed glare from Kim. “No, we can’t. The TV show sucked balls, and anything Connery’s in is awesome by definition. Even that travesty of a psychedelic movie he did in the seventies.”

Eric shrugged. “Fair enough. Anyway, the answer is no, because I’m actually not a psychopath, and Earth will be a fuck ton stronger with a hundred strong contenders than a handful of slightly stronger contenders more interested in killing off each other than actually keeping our world from being overrun by assholes.”

Kim glared at her with eyes nearly identical to Yuki’s own before giving a slow nod. “I believe him.” She then laughed bitterly. “Besides, with how fast you move, if you want us dead, we’re dead. So why the fuck worry about it?”

“I mean, you guys took the oath so you can leave anytime you like if I really make you that uncomfortable,” Eric mumbled.

“It depends on how cool your sister is, to be honest,” Kim admitted with a strangely sympathetic smile. “And don’t feel too bad. Honestly, you’re looking pretty fly, mister ‘I don’t need anything but jeans in the post apocalypse.’ Besides, I know what it’s like to be shown up by an older sibling who’s always two steps ahead and is all anyone looks at.”

“You know, I was actually born…”

“Shut up and take the compliment.”

“Taken.”

“Did you see how fast he was moving? I couldn’t even make out what was going on until it was over, and that kid… fuck, did you see his sword?” Herb’s voice, Eric could now so easily pick it out from so many others, for all that the classers were taking it upon themselves to gently coral the terrified mortals and the lower leveled noobs in way over their head who had only wanted to escape Freetown into a semblance of order… and get the hell away from the killing fields and into the closest area they had to sanctuary as fast as possible.

Vincent sighed. “All I saw was that kid flying and the Bronze monster’s fist. Fucker was clearly holding a pose every time the kid was thrown out of the ring, so everyone could see the last move, and how well he was getting the best of the kid who thought he was his match. And the way all the orc bastards and gnolls in back hooted and howled, you know they were getting a major moral buff.”

“But he did get the best of that mercenary bastard in the end,” his wife noted.

“Yes, Angie. He did,” Vincent said agreeably enough. “And right now we’re walking free because that kid was willing to bleed for us and I’ll always be grateful. Especially if he can get us past the fucking stationary whirlwind now in front of us.”

Eric flushed at those words, the pair of girls by Sven’s side now looking at him expectantly as well.

“So, what now… hero?” The blond said with a challenging smile.

Eric winced. “Now… fuck.”

Kim and Kimberly exchanged disbelieving looks. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to get us through?”

Eric’s cheeks flushed. He closed his eyes.

Er - Elonia, great news! We’re here!

El – Awesome! Hold on a second… oh, I sense where you are!

Er – Please don’t strain your channels, you told me how… never mind.

El – I’m not a complete cripple, brother dearest ;) and thank you. For everything.

Eric opened his eyes a second later, impressed despite himself to see the clear tube-shaped area of calm surrounded by the howling winds, like a tunnel made of unbreakable glass. He turned to smile at the two thousand or so survivors gazing at the cyclone and the entrance with either awe or dread.

“Alright, it looks like we’re here, friends! Follow me and we’ll do our best to get you all settled. And if anyone wants to earn some bonus points helping with setting up tables, beds, and food prep, I think my sister would be thrilled to offer you all jobs.”

It pained Eric how eagerly dozens of too thin, desperate looking souls of all ages and sexes were desperately nodding or waving their hands to get hired.

His smile became strained but he kept his voice cheerful as he entered the strangely silent tunnel, for all that massive gale-force winds were roaring just above them.

“Shit, why do I feel like I’m on a hostile world?” The blond Kimberly whispered.

Sven’s eyes were filled with awe. “With a single spell, Elonia Silver could send us all hurtling into the ionosphere. Now that’s power!” Her said with more than a bit of awe, Kim nodding in solemn agreement.

Eric smiled, awed once more at witnessing the power of his sister’s rituals firsthand. With the right backup and support, Eric had no doubt she could carve a pretty damned impressive empire, if she was given half a chance. Which no doubt explained why the entire alliance of assholes had united to bring her down.

Eric’s awed admiration turned to brooding worry, though his features lightened when they finally made it through the tunnel, and Eric found himself leading over two thousand people sobbing and cheering with gratitude as they fell to their knees and wept before the smiling beauty dressed in pristine white silk with a mithril tiara, gazing at them all with imperial affection from the top of the white mare she so elegantly rode upon, looking as regal as any queen about to lead her troops to war, or bring her weary people home.

In that moment a stray shaft of moonlight caressed Elonia’s features, and even Eric felt a jolt of breathless awe, truly feeling like he was witnessing something miraculous as his sister seemed to wax with majesty before his eyes.

Congratulations! You have successfully completed the quest: Save my people!

Elonia Silver has successfully recruited over 1000 Devoted Recruits in a single night!

You have helped your sister achieve a Noble Title!

Do you wish to join the Sylvan Alliance and share in title boons? Y/N

You have chosen: NO.

Free Agent status successfully maintained!

Eric flashed his sister an exhausted smile, only in that moment realizing how tired he truly was. “You’re looking awesome, sis!”

“Only thanks to you, brother,” she thought right back at him.

“I’m going to crash. I am truly fucking knackered. I need at least an hour’s sleep to fill up all my potency pools. And then? It’s on.”

His sister gave him a heartfelt smile. “I saw what you did. Taking on a Bronze tier merc company. If I hadn’t been so worried that I would have thrown you off your game… I would have screamed at you to return and we take Jurgen’s offer and enjoy a sweet life far away from here. Because I don’t want to lose you, brother, conquest arc be damned.”

Her eyes blazed with wonder. “But you did it. You actually got the best of them!”

Even as her thoughts gently soothed his worries, her words rang through the clearing, taking the fervent oaths of her newest and perhaps most devoted citizens, promising safety and succor, nourishment and future opportunities, and the promise of a better future.

Even as her words lightened Eric’s heart, there was one thing he craved above all others.

And that was the marvelous, luxurious bedroom his sister, with her twinkling mischievous eyes, had marked on his interface map as his own. He couldn’t fly through the palatial corridors fast enough, grateful to see that at least this half of the palace hadn’t been touched by artillery and chaos, though he hadn’t been expecting a smiling and very naked Yuki to be lying in his bed.

Her eyes were challenging even if her cheeks were blazing at her own daring, her husky voice sending shivers down his spine. “You promised me a boon, hero. And I aim to collect.”

Eric’s heart was suddenly beating for a very different reason, and he couldn’t deny how exquisitely beautiful Yuki was or, despite her prickly demeanor, that there was definitely chemistry between them.

Yet she wasn’t Rica, a girl his heart yearned strangely for this night, for reasons he could no longer clearly recall. But what stood out even more than his need for a thorough soak was just how familiar Yuki’s exquisite beauty was to a girl he had met less than an hour ago.

“Assuming you have a sister named Kim…”

Yuki was suddenly glaring in his face, looking so incredibly delicious without a single garment marring her exquisite caramel beauty. She was as much Thai as Japanese, Eric suspected, not that he cared in the least.

“What the fuck do you know about Kim? Did something happen to her? You sure as fuck better not be sleeping with her, Eric Silver!”

Eric forced a smile. “Sorry, she’s already shacking up with a girl named Kimberly and a boy named Sven. And she’s a Contender, by the way, as are her lovers. Careful, Yuki. They’re all definitely radiating PC protag vibes. The System probably wants them to make cute babies or something. So you’re not going to have a shot at…”

His words died off when Yuki covered herself in shadow and darted out the room.

“Please don’t fuck with Elonia’s coronation bullshit!” Eric shouted haphazardly before realizing he didn’t actually care that much about hot baths or anything save glorious, luxurious sleep.

He was out like a light before his sweaty, blood-covered scalp even touched his pristine down-stuffed pillow.