On this day as well, the City of Wrath began to bustle as the suns began their journeys across the cloudless sky.
All things progressed according to routine on this morning, but still many of the city's early risers held a certain sense of anticipation.
It had now been two days since the coffee-seeker had been sighted.
The question on the minds of many was not if the strange giant of a man would appear again.
It was when would he appear again.
Onyxfell was a city that had seen many things over the centuries. It had seen times of great war in the past when it had been the center of an Empire that spanned a greater distance than could be traveled in a season. It had seen times of lesser war more recently, when the rise and spread of magic-based battling had caused the Stadalites to relinquish their holds on some of their more distant lands as compensation for their refusal to engage in the cowardice of magical combat. In the near past, it had seen the advent of The System and the sudden expansion in its territories that those new abilities brought to its citizens when their reliance on martial combat was finally rewarded.
Then it had changed in subtle ways, and its citizens turned their thirst for battle to the interior, reveling and exulting in Victory that was achieved within The Arena and, later, The Tracks of Racing. Lasting treaties were hastily enacted with neighboring nations to provide those comforts which had previously been supplied as the spoils of war, and those who attained Victory again and again were worshiped as heroes.
As near-deities, in one case.
The citizens were accustomed to waiting. Massive signs had been erected in the last decade which groomed and heightened excitement for upcoming matches, and many were those who took to the streets, the pubs, and the places of gathering to discuss and talk shit regarding favored gladiators and drivers. What had previously been a simple pastime had become an all-encompassing furor that held the hearts and minds of most who resided within the city's shining walls to a greater extent than war ever had.
So it was that the coffee-seeker was already becoming an item of contested discourse in those same places and times when gladiators and drivers were discussed. Stories of his feats of strength were told and retold, growing in scope with each utterance, and it was not long before many were speculating on his capabilities were he to battle in The Arena.
A lower tier gladiator was surely not his match. The ignominious, swift defeat of the young Cossus Allectius Arrianus days earlier was proof enough of that, and several had witnessed the cowardly screams of the youngster while he was being manhandled like a child by the coffee-seeker.
Could he compete with those who were closer to the middle of the rankings? It seemed that he could, as was attested to by Bruccia Torquatus, who had encountered him on a certain morning and been grateful that the rage-fueled beast had not desired to do battle with her. A similar sentiment was grudgingly echoed by the young Plautia Cornuta, who was like a rising gladius aimed at the feet of the upper tier, the strongest of gladiators.
Was the coffee-seeker, whom even Laberia Salonina regarded as knowing techniques and skills of incredible power, truly able to compete with the highest echelons of gladiators?
On this day, the early-risers of Onyxfell would gain a small amount of insight into this question.
The coffee-seeker was once again seen in D-five, lumbering northwards towards that which he desired. He was discovered almost immediately by a quartet of gladiators from D-one who wore pendants of guardianship.
Though their names held no significance, Barria Procyon, Salvia Christiana, Numerius Decumius Ulpianus, and their leader, Decimus Cincius Ivmarus, had been given a task by the wife of Marcus Camelius Belenus, whom they regarded with great respect, and they—particularly Decimus Cincius Ivmarus, who seemed to be especially restless on this morning—sought to find Victory in its completion as quickly as was possible.
They attempted to subdue the coffee-seeker. Barria Procyon, the fastest of the group and ranked forty eighth out of all gladiators, darted forward, recognizing him at once based on the description she'd received, and twisted the huge man's arm behind his back before kicking him forward so that she might use her leverage to force him to yield. Contrary to her expectations, however, the coffee-seeker knew no pain, and he lifted her off her feet when he stood again, shaking his arm vigorously as though attempting to dislodge a small canis that had latched onto him. Barria Procyon had been thrown high into the sky from the power of the man's arm as well as her own foolish lack of caution when she'd thought her Victory so easily attained.
"COOOFFFEeeeEEEeEEEEEEEeeeEEE!" shouted the coffee-seeker in a discordant, wailing tone that had caused lesser citizens of The Empire to tremble.
The remaining trio—as Barria Procyon had yet to land—immediately grew wary. They had expected this part of their task to be the easiest, but it had already taken a greater toll than they had imagined.
The coffee-seeker stepped forward threateningly, his feet and legs moving in a way none of them had ever before witnessed, having not been present for the recent battle of Laberia Salonina in which she'd unveiled her newest technique. He teetered to the left but somehow moved to the right, all the while muttering under his breath and pressing forward towards them.
Citizens of Onyxfell were no strangers to the concept of magic, though they disdained its use in combat and were generally ignorant to its exact appearance. Such was the flaw in the decision-making of the remaining three gladiators that they misunderstood a man repeating the word "coffee" under his breath as the incantation of a magical spell, his eyes which were downcast and lidded with pre-coffee exhaustion as the fury of a man who would kill rather than be taken captive, and the twitching of hands which required brewed coffee beans to function after waking as the reaction to their every slight movement when they thought to begin an attack.
Numerius Decumius Ulpianus was the one who stopped his slow retreat first, as disgusted with the idea of fleeing as he was with anything he believed might lead to illness. He moved forward with the same caution he would afford his foes in The Arena as he pulled his massive malleus magnus from its harness on his back. He spoke to the coffee-seeker, though his words were unimportant, in what was described as an obvious attempt to unsettle the larger man and raise his own spirits. He shouted out a cry of battle and charged forward, letting fly a powerful sideways swing at the man's legs, intending to hobble him.
The sound of the impact was immense, waking all who remained asleep within a wide radius, though they knew not what had disrupted their slumber.
In particular, however, the sound attracted the attention of a single individual of note, leading directly to events which would become a spectacle in the days to come.
The coffee-seeker himself was knocked head-first into a car by the blow, smashing through it in a miraculous way that somehow failed to damage his clothes even the smallest amount. When he stood up unharmed seconds later, a crazed look in his eyes as his head slowly rotated to face Numerius Decumius Ulpianus, the malleus-wielding gladiator once again took a step backwards, finding himself unnerved.
Numerius Decumius Ulpianus had fought many, many battles in The Arena, but it had always been the case that when he connected with such force, his opponent would remain where they landed, usually requiring some amount of treatment from one of the city's many people with healing-related stats and skills.
The coffee-seeker, whether enraged by the man's temerity in attacking him prior to acquiring coffee or enraged by the hunk of metal which stubbornly clung to his bare foot, lashed out with fury. His foot weakly struck the wreckage of the destroyed car, propelling it forward with an amount of power great enough to send it flipping and rolling across the street towards his opponents.
The malleus magnus of Numerius Decumius Ulpianus swung out once more, batting the scrap metal away, but in the moment that he was blinded by the size of his own weapon and the tumbling car, he was defeated.
The coffee-seeker stomped forward with the strength possessed by only the most powerful gladiators, and his step incidentally triggered the collapse of a certain section of road due to an undiscovered fault in the building material. The ensuing cave-in sent Numerius Decumius Ulpianus plunging into the city's excrement-laden sewer system some distance below. He screamed, thrashing about, but this was his undoing, as an especially odorous, amorphous segment of fecal matter unexpectedly entered his mouth.
In that moment Numerius Decumius Ulpianus wished only for his own death, but his fate was unimportant with regards to the city.
Whether the coffee-seeker had planned for this eventuality is unknown. What a number of spectators witnessed was that he paused at the edge of the crater and blinked several times, each longer than the previous occurrence.
Barria Procyon chose that moment to return to the ground from her excursion high into the sky, but her course had not been one of straight ups and downs. The angle at which she had been launched caused her to veer in an unexpected direction, landing in the central part of D-four near a certain individual of import who had previously been roused by the incredible sound of a malleus magnus striking an unbreakable, coffee-deprived object.
The gladiator from D-one landed on her feet, as befit one within the top fifty of The Arena's rankings, and she immediately sprinted back towards D-five with a scowl. Her apparent course would not carry her back to the ongoing skirmish, however; she instead seemed to be heading towards a location farther south, nearing the famed forges and anvils of Pertinax Protectives, though they were not yet active at such an early time out of consideration for residents of the region. Her progress was halted as she raced into D-five towards her destination, however, as was noted by several onlookers.
"Hey," a random, short-haired woman wearing a pannus over her face in the style of those seeking companionship called loudly. "Moving a little fast in D-five at such an early hour, aren't you?"
The casual question caused the speedy Barria Procyon a moment's thought, but she failed to slow her stride until that same woman took a single step to her left at an inopportune time, putting her directly into the path of the fast-moving veteran gladiator without giving her enough time to change course.
It happened on occasion. A high-ranked gladiator moving at extreme speed would inadvertently collide with a more ordinary person or a weaker gladiator. The result was an explosion of blood and guts, potentially killing both of the participants if the speedy gladiator's constitution was sufficiently frail. If the gladiator lived, a hefty fine was imposed as reparations to the slain person's family as well as a year-long ban from fighting in The Arena which tended to end careers: none wished to be thought an admirer of one who was unable to effectively control their strength.
Barria Procyon groaned to herself as she tried in vain to shift her course and avoid the inevitable result. She had never been subject to either of the penalties that the crime of accidental murder conveyed to a gladiator, and she had no wish to stop fighting in The Arena, as she surely would be forced to do as a result of this one stupid woman's actions.
Suddenly, Barria Procyon's face was grasped in a calloused palm at a speed too fast for her to perceive. "Boring," grumbled the woman who should have been nothing but a splatter on the surrounding road.
And then Barria Procyon was once more flying through the air, though she traveled much higher and with a different trajectory than she had on her previous occasion. She was also unconscious, and when she was finally roused hours later, she would discover that she had fallen and crashed through a pane of glass into the bedchamber of Emma Charus, suffering a number of broken bones and lacerations in the process.
The companionship-seeking woman sighed to herself. She vanished from sight in the next moment.
Though it took some time to describe, the entire encounter leading to the incapacitation of Barria Procyon happened in the time it took the coffee-seeker to complete his final blink in celebration of his Victory over Numerius Decumius Ulpianus, who was ranked seventy second in The Arena.
After this short interlude, the coffee-seeker seemed to regain his faculties. He staggered to his left, making his way around the large hole in the road that his previous actions had created.
At the same time, with half of their number having been lost, Salvia Christiana and Decimus Cincius Ivmarus came to a wordless agreement. They had two definite goals that morning along with a tertiary objective which was described to them as beneficial but not required. The first was to subdue and capture the coffee-seeker, though he had not been known as such to them. The second, and most important, was to capture a certain young woman who was known to be residing within a certain workshop across from Pertinax Protectives. Decimus Cincius Ivmarus indicated that he would pursue the latter, leaving his remaining companion to find Victory in the former. They separated, with the twelfth-ranked gladiator moving around the hole on the opposite side in a southwards direction.
Two events happened nearly simultaneously.
The first was the wary Salvia Christiana charging forward with her fists raised. Like many who revered Scorpio Fulminis, she fought primarily with her fists and feet, though the twenty three year-old was also proficient with the use of a number of weapons. She kicked out instantly, her thinking likely that she must strike a considerable blow to the man's head after his lack of regard for the impact he'd previously suffered to his legs.
The second was Decimus Cincius Ivmarus encountering his tertiary objective as he ran southwards.
"You again," said a random woman with short hair, wearing a white pannus over her mouth, who was walking northwards with a pensive set to her eyes.
Decimus Cincius Ivmarus stopped. He had been told that he should attempt to capture a woman like this if he encountered her, but she seemed to have him at a disadvantage by the manner in which she recognized him. He sized her up, just as he did with any opponent, but there was nothing remarkable about her.
She stood casually, not taking any action to indicate that she intended to fight, and she wore only a pair of plain-looking leather shoes, denim trousers, and a gray shirt rather than any sort of armor or attire that might be used for combat. She was a completely ordinary citizen of The Empire to him, which would have caused him to overlook her if not for a very clear description which he had received from Emma Charus earlier that morning after he had rested. These tasks were crucial for the upcoming celebration planned two nights hence, and so he must lend his assistance to the wife of his former training partner to show his respect.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He had been humiliated the night prior by an unknown assailant, but he had taken time to reflect on his actions overnight. He would find Victory this time, he knew, just as he did so often when he fought in The Arena.
"Boring," a voice whispered in his ear an instant later just before he was tossed into the air with incredible speed, hurtling like an arrow northwards out of the city. His course set him to touch down deep within the Challenge of Sateus, where he suffered constant attacks from rift spawn more powerful than any he'd fought previously. It cost him his left forearm to fight his way back to the city on that morning, and he gained no stats which would be of any use to him in the process, collapsing in exhaustion instead, too weakened at that moment to even leap over the city's wall.
"So fucking tedious," grumbled the pannus-wearing woman. She yawned. "And after the two of them wore me out last night too. Was gonna buy it again, but maybe I'll make some coffee today…" She tapped her chin a few times before disappearing from sight.
The coffee-seeker had a different approach to dealing with his problem. Perhaps further exhausted from such an intense encounter prior to consuming his morning coffee, he fell over onto his side and into a deep slumber.
Salvia Christiana stared for a time. At last, she edged closer, thinking the act to be a ruse, and tapped his shoulder with her shoe.
The coffee-seeker continued to slumber.
Rather than ponder her fortunes, Salvia Christiana said a quick thanks to Sateus and hefted the large man over her shoulder before starting back towards D-one. Her task had been accomplished, and she had found her Victory. All that remained was to deliver the man, proving to Decimus Cincius Ivmarus that, despite her much lower ranking, she was still worthy of becoming his lover.
It was when she reached D-three and passed in front of The Arena that Victory began to slip from her hands.
"COFFEE-SEEKER!" bellowed Furia Vedrix, instantly growing incensed. Not only had this man evaded her searching for the past day, but he now thought to ride atop the shoulder of one of her idols, Salvia Christiana, rather than walk on his own feet?
Salvia Christiana was puzzled, but she quickly explained the situation to the trio of young gladiators, of whom she only vaguely knew Plautia Cornuta. She gave no reasoning for her capture of the man, but none of the trio questioned her actions. She was, after all, wearing the pendant of guardianship, and she was a highly ranked gladiator as well.
Mollified, Furia Vedrix acknowledged her mistake and apologized for her outburst which had delayed the older woman in her task. She glared at the coffee-seeker, who was still asleep, noting how Arquillia Tullas was watching him with her pretty eyes.
Plautia Cornuta cared for none of that. She scowled entirely because this seemed like yet another occasion in which the coffee-seeker would pass her by without yielding the secrets of the movement technique that Laberia Salonina had mastered and praised.
"Carl, I made coffee today!" called a random woman's voice.
Salvia Christiana began walking again, but the coffee-seeker abruptly regained his senses and began wiggling haphazardly.
"COFFEE!" the coffee-seeker yelled gleefully.
A woman wearing a white pannus over her mouth walked up while Salvia Christiana was attempting to get the coffee-seeker under control enough to continue her journey. The gladiator's pace was habitually slower than most other gladiators who reached the top two hundred and fifty—a product of her caution and unwillingness to accidentally trample a citizen, as had happened to her uncle when she'd been younger.
"Carl, what the fuck are you even doing?" asked the newcomer to the scene. She sipped from a mug and coughed a few times. "Fuck, I think this is a little stronger than usual," she said to herself, looking down at the beverage.
Salvia Christiana kept walking as the coffee-seeker's struggles intensified. He was strong, but she judged that she was the stronger between them. It was the man's size which was a problem for the somewhat short woman, as his flopping threatened to dislodge him from his position.
"Gonna need you to put him down so he can try my coffee," called the recently-arrived woman.
Salvia Christiana turned to look towards her, but there was nobody there. She frowned, suddenly more wary as she recalled the third objective her group had been given that morning. She returned her gaze to the fore, and the woman with the cloth over her mouth was now standing in front of her.
The woman took another drink from her mug beneath the pannus. "Actually, maybe it's just been a while," she commented, looking down at her drink again. "Might be just right." She swirled her cup a little before she took another sip.
"Step aside," said Salvia Christiana. "Official business."
It was the phrase that unlocked all doors and removed all opposition. None wished to be guilty of obstructing one of the city's guardians.
"Mm," the woman with the coffee said. "Don't think it is, is it now." She took another gulp from her mug, her eyes not leaving Salvia Christiana's, then tossed her mug to the side.
The mug disappeared.
"I'm gonna give you a chance not to annoy me," said the pannus-wearing woman. "Spent a lot of time—sort of—making this coffee just now, and if I don't get to hear his opinion of it because you're busy carrying him around for some stupid, boring reason, I will get annoyed." She began to tap her foot.
Those who watched the odd scene, namely the young trio of Furia Vedrix, Arquillia Tullas, and Plautia Cornuta, were caught on the edge of bafflement and shock. Who was this random woman to accost a high-ranked gladiator so?
"Step. Aside," Salvia Christiana repeated, using her free hand to hold up her pendant of guardianship.
It was at that precise moment the coffee-seeker made his move. Like a caged animal sensing weakness in his handler, he rolled fiercely to the side and flailed all of his limbs. He slipped backwards a little, and the sudden momentum of his squirming unbalanced the gladiator, tipping her backwards.
"COFFEEEEEE!" bellowed the coffee-seeker once more. His hands tore into the surface of the road when he was close enough, and he began to pull himself forward along the ground, sliding himself free of his bewildered captor's grasp even as she continued to fall backwards.
"Carl, what the fuck are you doing?" asked the woman with the pannus over her face in clear exasperation. "Look, I came all this way so you could try my coffee," she said, pulling a mug out of the air in front of her.
The coffee-seeker paid her no mind, however. He had regained his freedom, and there was only one thing he must do now. His nostrils flared, and he scented his prey.
Salvia Christiana acquired her balance again swiftly, as was befitting of an upper tier gladiator, even if she was not as highly ranked as any of the other three who had accompanied her on that morning. She turned to the coffee-seeker, prepared to recapture him.
The coffee-seeker was already gone from his previous position, however. He now stood in front of the pannus-wearing woman with his eyes closed, sniffing the air.
"Coffee?" said the woman, holding the steaming mug aloft.
The coffee-seeker smelled the woman's offering. His eyes opened in alarm after a brief moment. "SCARY COFFEE!" he screamed, placing both hands on top of his head. He then began to sprint at an incredible speed towards The Arena.
It must be said that every single person who was within seeing distance of this event immediately paused and stared at the coffee-seeker as he retreated from a mug of what was assumed to be coffee.
Salvia Christiana was the first to act. She charged after the coffee-seeker at a swifter pace, seeming as though she would overtake him at any moment. He leapt high into the air without any indication, narrowly evading her grasping hand, and soared into The Arena.
"Huh," said the woman holding the mug of coffee. She took a moment to look down at it, tilting it this way and that, then sniffed it. Her next act was to amble over to the trio of young gladiators. "This smell like coffee?" she asked, holding the mug up before them and waving it back and forth in front of the two nearest.
Furia Vedrix and Arquillia Tullas, in unison, let out groans of desperation and collapsed. The third, Plautia Cornuta, eyed the coffee-bearer with distrust and took a step back with one hand on her gladius and the other over her mouth and nose. "What did you do to them?" she demanded, her eyes darting between her fallen friends and the coffee-bearer.
The coffee-bearer frowned, then took a sip. "No, just like it's supposed to be," she muttered. She looked over towards The Arena. "Mm, could be fun, maybe…" She set off at a light jog down the path to the entrance while carrying the mug.
The coffee-seeker, by this time, had found himself almost in another world compared to his previous forays into coffee seeking.
"Coffee-seeker?" called Laberia Salonina—or, as she was known in this place, Discutrix Gladiorum—in confusion, her sparring session halting as she stopped to stare at the man who had just landed in the center of her fighting platform. As the third-ranked gladiator of The Arena, many sought the Victory of merely sparring with her, and on this day she had granted the honor to Gaius Nasennius Pertinax, a mid-tier gladiator hoping to finally break into the highest reaches of the gladiator rankings, those two hundred and forty nine of the strongest gladiators who continued to fight.
The title of strongest, at this time, was unable to be contested, and there were none who had attempted to claim that Victory for themselves in the six years since the top-ranked gladiator had disappeared without a trace.
Gaius Nasennius Pertinax stared, torn between irritation that his training time with one of the strongest in The Empire had been interrupted and surprise at how strange the interruption himself was.
"Scary coffee bad," the coffee-seeker said in reply.
Salvia Christiana landed a short distance away at that moment and raced towards him.
"Christiana, you're not usually one to be here so early," remarked Laberia Salonina, implying her knowledge that the lower-ranked gladiator preferred to spar and train later in the day outside of The Arena. "Are you training with the coffee-seeker?"
Salvia Christiana skidded to a stop several steps away, her eyes widening as she realized who was speaking to her. "Salonina, good morning," she said quickly, inclining her head as was respectful from both a junior to a senior and a rank one hundred and sixty three to a rank three. "I, um—"
"Carl, you're gonna drink this fucking coffee if I have to pour it down your throat!" came an improbably loud shout from one of the entrances.
All who heard the shout turned to glare. A random citizen wearing casual clothes and the traditional face covering of a woman seeking Victory in new companionship had wandered into the most sacred grounds of The Empire. She held in her hand a mug as she jogged at an unhurried pace towards the coffee-seeker.
Citizens of Onyxfell knew the law regarding entry to The Arena. Those not intending to do battle must not enter the center area. They must restrict themselves to the seating areas and not sully the sacred, sand-covered grounds between the fighting platforms, let alone the platforms themselves. Even those who worked to repair that ground when it was destroyed during bouts were required to be gladiators, whether active or retired.
The penalty for violating this law, as was the penalty for many crimes in the City of Wrath, was death.
The coffee-bearer trotted through The Arena towards the coffee-seeker, and a number of those present immediately assumed them to be lovers given the situation.
In times like these, the gladiators would look to the one who held the highest rank among them. Such was the case as all eyes turned to Laberia Salonina.
Discutrix Gladiorum issued no immediate orders, however.
Salvia Christiana looked to be actively warring with herself. She crept closer to the coffee-seeker, but he was at the center of the spectacle that was unfolding. If Laberia Salonina asked what her reason for dragging the man away was, it would then be within the third-ranked gladiator's rights to follow along for the sake of ensuring the city's business was completed. To a strict, rule-following gladiator such as Discutrix Gladiorum, any dereliction or perversion of the pendant of guardianship was cause for immediate execution.
The coffee-seeker himself cringed, edging back from the coffee-bearer. "Scary coffee. SCARY COFFEE!"
Gaius Nasennius Pertinax at this time, not normally one given to impatience but pushed to it presently given how his training time was being squandered, took a single step forward towards the large man.
"Wait," called Laberia Salonina with one hand raised. "This is the coffee-seeker's business. Out of respect for his skill and technique, I will grant—"
"Carl, get the fuck over here and drink this coffee right now!" shouted the random citizen, cutting into the speech of Discutrix Gladiorum. She continued to move at a pace which all gladiators who possessed any amount of experience would consider impossibly slow.
One of the somewhat-experienced gladiators, the twenty four year-old Appius Barrius Torquatus, perhaps seeking to gain the respect of Laberia Salonina, grew visibly enraged at the interruption. "How dare you talk over Discutrix Gladiorum!" he yelled, making as if to strike with his securis at the coffee-bearer while she passed by.
Discutrix Gladiorum blurred, and she caught his arm before the chop could begin to descend. "We will give the coffee-seeker two minutes to resolve his business," she announced. "Out of respect."
The coffee-bearer continued towards the coffee-seeker. "Hurry up and drink this shit or it's gonna get cold," she called.
The coffee-seeker retreated farther. "No! Scary coffee bad!" He began moving to the side, once more displaying his footwork which beguiled the eye, appearing to move right while moving left but then also somehow not moving at all.
The assembled gladiators watched with rapt attention.
The coffee-bearer began to laugh. "What… What the fuck's that supposed to be?" she harangued him between full-bodied laughs. "Are you drunk, Carl?"
His legs became a blur, but it was somehow difficult to know whether he was moving.
His actions caused the coffee-bearer to laugh even harder. "Is this a joke? This has to be a joke."
Then she began to flawlessly mimic his movement.
"Feels a little weird," the coffee-bearer remarked as she sidled to her left while remaining stationary.
Laberia Salonina was stunned. Seeing the technique that had taken her, a genius in the martial way, over a day to master so faithfully reproduced mere seconds after being witnessed for the first time, she was reminded yet again that she must remain humble and avoid thinking too highly of her own skills.
There was always someone stronger, as the old saying went.
"Came all this fucking way to bring you this coffee I made myself," said the coffee-bearer as she slowly closed the distance.
"Coffee?" said the coffee-bearer. He stopped in place and hesitated.
"Carl, stop fucking about. Drink the fucking coffee." The coffee-bearer moved closer still and held up the mug.
The coffee-seeker snuffled at the air before pulling back to huddle against the inner wall of The Arena. "COFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—"
"Fuck, what happened to you? Can't believe…" The coffee-bearer at last stood in front of the coffee-seeker. "Okay, we're gonna do it the hard way."
The assembled gladiators watched with varying emotions as the coffee-bearer grasped the head of the coffee-seeker and tipped it back just long enough to dump the contents of the mug into his mouth.
The change was immediate. The coffee-seeker was on his feet and sprinting towards the opposite side of The Arena at a speed that caused him to appear as a shimmer in the air to the lesser gladiators. He jumped into the sky and faded from view as he shot into the distance.
"So fucking weird," muttered the coffee-bearer. She jogged back across The Arena as the gladiators watched, not seeming to take note of anyone.
When at last she disappeared into the entry tunnel, Gaius Nasennius Pertinax was the first to notice another change. At some point since the coffee-bearer had arrived, Salvia Christiana had fallen to the ground, unconscious.
"Return to your training," commanded Laberia Salonina, appearing to be unaffected by any part of the odd occurrence. She had been a gladiator for nearly two decades now, and she had persisted through the advent of The System as well as the rise and disappearance of Scorpio Fulminis. While she refrained from speaking her mind on the current happenings, it was clear to all who saw her reaction that this was such a minor event that it could not disturb her training for even another instant.
The coffee-seeker had returned to Onyxfell on this day. His appearance was noted, but the power and devastation of his rampage been reduced by random chance.
Or had it been random chance?
It was not until some time later that anyone happened to venture into the region of The Arena in which the coffee-bearer and coffee-seeker had been demonstrating the maneuver which Laberia Salonina referred to as Coffee-Seeker's Step.
The sand near the edge of The Arena was disturbed in the normal fashion from a man stepping on it.
A small patch of sand a short distance in front of it, however, had been changed to a strange, crystal-like substance.