Nobby’s eyes scanned the inner octagon, which was much larger than it appeared form the outside. The walls were also as thick as he, the floor was made of equally stable stone. Though the walls were thick, they were enchanted so one could look out of them towards the arena, but not through the walls which typically held some of the warriors during the arena fights.

He found Adam and the others relaxing at a table, which was positioned in a way they could look out at every side as the different tables were set staggered so they could all in every direction.

A half floor split the section so the nobility and merchants could stay technically above the bottom floor, which split apart the greatest of the common folk from their betters.

Adam waved a hand. “Nobby, my boy! Good fight!”

“Yes,” Nobby said, while Bavin followed after him, bandaged around his arms and chest.

“Are you alright, Bavin?” Adam asked, pushing out a chair for each of them.

“Yes.”

Adam held out a hand, placing it against Bavin’s shoulder. “Well done.”

“Thank you,” Bavin replied, feeling a gentle warmth fill him.

Lay on Hands: 20 -> 10

Adam winked. Faool sat beside Laygak, who understood what it felt like to face against someone like Naqokan. She had the ability of the Kan family, which allowed her to strike with divine might during her Rage Dance.

“So it’s Nobby against Naqokan,” Adam said. “We’ll see who is the best N here.”

“Nobby is stronger than I,” Naqokan said, without any hint of self deprecation. “It is a great glory for the Rot family to train him.”

Nirot nodded her head slowly, throwing a look to Adam for a moment, before looking to Nobby. ‘This generation is for our Rot family.’

“Isn’t it a greater glory that one of theirs will be Elder Peace?”

“Turot may not-,” Nirot began to say, before seeing the way Adam tensed up. He was smiling, but she could see the pulsing in his neck and forehead, that of annoyance. “Yes.”

“Turot’s going to be Elder Peace, but what about the others?” Adam asked. “Katool wants to be like Kitool, and…” Adam thought about little Katool, with her tiny little bob cut. “No. She’s not allowed be that scary. My adorable Katool has to remain small and cute.”

“Stop being so queer,” Jaygak replied, physically cringing. “If Katool wants to grow up as skilled as Kitool, it is a great glory for their family.”

“Kitool, you need to work hard so Katool doesn’t have to, okay?” Adam glanced towards the side, only to realise the Iyrman wasn’t there. ‘Oh, right.’

Kitool stepped out into the arena to the sounds of a crowd full of blood lust. They cheered for the young Kitool, with a banner of blue and red, the colours of her family, and two words.

EXECUTIVE KITOOL

Kitool bowed in front of them before accepting the banner, before wrapping it around her staff. She walked the crowd’s edge, waving the banner this way and that, to more applause and shouts.

“Executive Kitool!”

“Sir Gordan!”

The pair finally prepared themselves. Kitool glanced to the young warrior, who was no doubt one of the greatest warriors she had personally faced. He was adorned in full plate, which was no doubt magical. She hadn’t expected the blade he was wielding, however.

Sir Gordan unsheathed the blade within his hands, feeling the great tingling of the magic within it. The blade was long and silver, made from an Ancient Silver Dragon. It was nearly freezing to the touch, which constantly reminded the young warrior that the blade did not belong to him. ‘I can feel why it’s considered one of the greatest weapons in the order.’

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Grand Master James Greatwood stood at the edge of the octagon, looking out to his personal apprentice, and the Iyrman who had dared to refuse his offer. Even the nobles on the top floor dared not to-

“Move out of the way,” Kira called out towards the Grand Master, annoyed that he would dare to block even a fraction of her view.

“I apologise,” Sir James Greatwood said, before stepping back towards the table made of red oak.

“Shall we bet?”

“A thousand gold on the Iyrman,” Kira said.

“Do you think my apprentice would lose against the Iyrman?”

“You have heard my bet,” Kira said.

“Very well,” Sir James said, bowing his head.

The Duchess decided against betting, not wanting to offend the Grand Master.

The moment the fight began, Kitool’s body blurred, and Tigerstaff almost disappeared as it showered against Sir Gordan. However, though Sir Gordan was no Iyrman, he was still extremely tough. Tigerstaff continued to strike against Sir Gordan, who fought off not only the staff, but the wicked abilities of the savage before him.

Finding that she was unable to stun him, Kitool bent backwards, almost throwing the quarterstaff away as First Ice threatened to bisect her, but she swayed to the side, and slammed Tigerstaff into the earth, before using the staff to brace herself as she kicked Sir Gordan away. The heavily armoured warrior tumbled backwards, rolling once as he landed face first into the earth.

Kitool stepped back, giving him the chance to right himself. One second passed. Two seconds passed. Three. Sir Gordan remained still. The crowd had seen Kitool’s ability to freeze people in place, so continued to wait.

Kitool brought Tigerstaff back to herself, and she bowed her head to each crowd watching, before she waited for her victory to be called.

“No,” Adam whispered. “How can she corrupted Katool like this?”

Jaygak wanted to hit Adam, but decided against it. “The weapon Sir Gordan used was First Ice.”

“The blade made from Antalia?”

“Yes.”

“Why does he have it?”

“Sir James must have paid a great price,” Jaygak said. Her lips twitched. “It was all for vain.”

“This fight was pretty even, wasn’t it?” Adam asked. “So I should have made a lot of money?”

“Yes.”

“Nice.”

Jaygak wasn’t sure why Adam had bet so much gold on the single fight, but realised it was probably because he couldn’t bet on the other fights.

As Kitool returned, there was very little congratulations to be had, as Jurot and Amokan’s crowds settled down to allow the pair to begin their fight.

The fight was perhaps the biggest slugfest yet. Whereas Nobby always slugged it out, especially when he faced Nirot and Bavin, it was nothing like the fight between Jurot and Amokan. Neither seemed to care one bit that they were being hacked apart by axe and greatblade. Amokan only managed one strike for each two he took. Amokan, who struck even more wildly than typical Iyrmen, only needed to land one strike for two he took.

“Just like that, Jurot!” Amokan laughed.

Unfortunately, Amokan’s typical way of fighting was only useful when his opponent wasn’t someone like Jurot. Jurot’s body was tough, like steel, and though Amokan’s body was similar, that was only true against cool hard metal.

Phantom did not strike just the body.

Amokan’s laughter was cut short as his blade struck Jurot’s shield, but it bounced off and landed behind Jurot. Jurot tossed Phantom behind Amokan, catching his falling brother. Amokan’s head was held upright by Jurot’s shoulder, and the crowd could see Amokan was still grinning wide while unconscious.

The pair had left much of their blood within the arena, which was quickly cleaned as they were healed by the Priests and Guardians.

Jurot returned with a conscious Amokan, who sat down beside Timojin. They exchanged a look, and would need to talk more about how monstrous Jurot was.

“You shouldn’t feel too bad, since Jurot used Phantom,” Adam said, trying to make Amokan feel better.

“Phantom is great, but isn’t it unmatched by your Wraith?” Amokan asked. “Even Jurot could not drop me with a single blow using Phantom.”

“He could have,” Adam stated. “He just didn’t feel like it, or maybe, he wasn’t lucky. Why didn’t you use Mighty Roar’s thunder?”

“I did not wish to end the fight quickly,” Jurot said, before catching Kitool’s eyes. “I will not use it against you.”

Kitool bowed her head in return. Mighty Roar was quite the shield, not just giving him a bonus to his Defence, but also holding a thunderous might which could rock whoever struck the Iyrman. Jurot rarely used it, however.

“So tomorrow, what are the fights looking like?” Adam asked.

“Tomorrow, you will face Sir Karra.”

“How do you know?”

“The winners of the fights will face the other losers of the day tomorrow,” Jurot explained.

“What a weird system.”

“It ensures the best fights are for the finals.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “Also the worst fights?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough. So you’re fighting Gordan, and Kitool’s fighting Amokan?”

“Yes.”

“Nice. You know, I’m getting a little sick of fighting so much, but…”

“But?”

Adam’s eyes moved slightly, as though he were looking at something unseen.

XP: 13 500

‘Oh, when did I get more XP?’

[You technically defeated Sir Roseia.]

‘Oh, right.’

An intermission was called, allowing some warriors to face one another, while other groups put on a show for the arena.

Adam glanced to the side, noting the guards nearby. He had been invited into the octagon on behalf of the Duchess, but she had yet to meet with him. No other noble had come to speak with him either. Adam looked up, wondering if those above could see him. ‘Probably, the pervs.’

A server approached the group, placing down platters of foods which were cut up to snack size, and also refilled the cups of wine. However, they said no more, leaving as suddenly as they appeared.

“The invitation was so you could watch all the fights,” Jurot said. “They will want to meet with you on another day.”

“Oh,” Adam said, before relaxing and enjoying the rest of the day. ‘Nobles, man. They’re so weird.’