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Class: Mash
Chapter 101: Sharing Expectations

Chapter 101: Sharing Expectations

Mash quickly returned to the room his friends were in. There were plenty of eyes that followed him right up until the next fight started. Thankfully, it was the hero’s fight next, and all eyes turned toward the arena when it started. It had taken a significant amount of effort to control his expression, and he let the control drop as he entered the room. He felt his face heat up with some embarrassment as he saw the expression on his friends' faces, but he was grinning all the same.

“You look happy, for someone who was just called a bastard. And rightly so, I might add.”

Jill’s attempt to get a rise out of him worked, and he replied without losing his smile.

“Yup, I won after all, and I doubt anything will change.”

Even with the hero in the tournament, Mash was confident that he could win. He saw his remaining opponents and believed that his dragon transformation would let him win the remaining fights. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he even needed that. He only wanted to use it to test his abilities against the unusually strong warrior. That was no different than what he had been doing and was certain it would make the man angry. Though, Mash cared more about understanding where his abilities stood than winning the tournament.

There were a few prizes in the vaults that interested him, but not to the degree that he felt like he needed to win. A wyvern scale would probably end up just being a worse version of his dragon form. Winning was more for his pride than anything else at this point. Even with that knowledge, it wasn’t like he would go easy on his opponents. He would try his hardest to win and was fairly confident in managing it. Something he caught out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to the fight in the arena.

The hero was losing. That was the simplest explanation for what drew the attention of everyone watching. All of the hero’s fights thus far had been trivial for him, and the man had ended each fight in a single attack. Now, he was facing another swordsman, though one who wielded a much more mundane blade. Still, this only made the difference in skill more apparent, as the hero was clearly at a disadvantage.

The man whom the hero was fighting was truly amazing with his sword. He clearly had a class designed for it, along with years of practice. The man fighting the hero wore something that resembled a dress, however, the fabric seemed much thicker than normal. It also seemed overly large as the sleeves hung from his wrists loosely. Mash appreciated the intricate design that flowed over the entire outfit. Several fishes seemed to be swimming through his clothing, and the way the cloth rippled as he moved made it seem more real.

The reason the swordsman was winning was not just with his superior swordsmanship, it was his magical skills that made him a perfect opponent for the hero. Every time his sword touched the blasts of flame, they were neutralized and turned into enormous explosions of mist. It was as if he was trying to turn the flames to ice, and it seemed to cause explosions of steam. The fight was a treat for the eyes, as they seemed to clash within dense pockets of clouds. The biggest problem for the swordsman was the hero’s armor. Even after several strong attacks landing from the swordsmen, there was not a single scratch on the metal.

Mash guessed that the swordsman would lose. Not because of a lack of skill or ability, rather because he lacked the power to harm the Hero. Who knows, the man might have had something to kill people within the armor, but he wouldn’t use that against a hero. Even Mash would need to be careful not to kill the man. The fight changed with their next exchange.

The hero and the swordsman clashed again, their blades meeting one another in a burst of steam. The difference came when the swordsman turned and slid his blade in an impossible motion to disarm the hero. The reason it seemed so impossible to Mash, was the unnatural smoothness with which his blade moved. The sharpness of the motion seemed to split the very space, though it did nothing to damage the legendary blade. Even without doing any damage, Mash figured the fight was over.

He was apparently wrong, as the hero raised a gauntleted fist toward the swordsman. An enormous burst of raw force collided with the man. It looked like a wall had suddenly been slammed into the swordsman. He was pushed into the stadium wall with a sickening crunch.

The hero had won the fight, but that last attack had been very unheroic. It was clearly another function of the armor and had nothing to do with the blade. Plus, it was a surprise attack on a man who had already assumed he had won. Mash didn’t blame the hero as he wouldn’t have been able to win otherwise, but the audience’s silence told a different story. As expected, the announcer quickly confirmed the end of the fight and the hero’s victory, though his words sounded just as empty as the audience’s cheers.

A hero was supposed to be better than other people. Someone who had been chosen by the blades for their integrity and honor. At least, that was what all the stories claimed. With even a small amount of thought, Mash knew that to be untrue, but even he had hoped otherwise. It was just a youthful remembrance of a childish dream, but it was still disappointing to see. However, Mash saw the audience’s faces shift from awe to disappointment, and he felt bad for the man. He had simply been doing his best to win, and Mash knew what it was like to be treated unfairly. To face expectations even if you never cared about them before, let alone, deal with them.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Mash decided that once the tournament ended, he would try and find an opportunity to talk to the man. Mash had sensed the man’s mana and should be able to find him later. He wanted to ask about the story of the sword, as well as just get to know the man. Who knows, maybe Mash could find a sword himself? Shaking his head, Mash knew that he wouldn’t use it even if he had one. It simply didn’t mesh with his magic and fighting style. Furthermore, he wouldn’t bother taking the time and effort to actually find one, let alone learn how to use it.

That was for another time though, his next fight would be soon, and he left the room after the fighters left the arena. There were only two more fights after today, and Mash guessed he would either be fighting the hero or the strongman. The winner of this next fight might be his opponent, but he felt like he wouldn’t be so lucky. Fate usually didn’t work for him in that way. He refocused, thinking about his current opponent, and running some ideas by Priscilla as he walked.

He was fighting an Elvish man called Larat. He was another mage, and Mash initially assumed the man would have no chance. The elf was a well-known lightning mage and that wasn’t very effective against Mash. However, in his fight yesterday, he had used different kinds of magic as well. It seemed like he was a general Elementalist, meaning that he would have access to all fundamental elements. Essentially, he would have access to fire, lighting, water, earth, and air magic. That would certainly make the fight more difficult, but he should be able to win without much effort. The elements would have no ability to manipulate his wooden creations, and the strange properties of his wood make them stronger than most of what he could produce.

The thing Mash was debating was which form to use, and how to fight. He had a number of options, and Priscilla insisted on using her form and even trying an imitation of her. It wasn’t a bad idea and would give him a good opportunity to see what Priscilla could do with more access to power. He would consume his energy quickly if he used both monstrous transformation and thunder-wood imitation. Mash didn’t think his hunt skill would activate either, meaning that he would have to end the fight quickly. Priscilla seemed confident that they could manage that, so he decided to give it a try.

He didn’t pay much attention to his walk and had already arrived at the moving platform. The previous fight still hadn’t ended, so he waited idly for it to end. He thought about his plans for the next day. He finished all of his fights at the Colosseum, but the others had their next fights tomorrow. When he had talked with Jack, the man brought up a concern that Mash hadn’t even thought about. He was young, unusually so for his strength and that was not likely to change anytime soon. Plus, if he continued leveling at the rate that he was, he would hit level 150 before actually becoming an adult. If that happened Mash would be stuck looking like he was. He wouldn’t want to remain as a kid forever and considered what he could do to correct that.

There were a few options for that, some adventurers already having found a solution to this problem. A few dungeons existed where one could age a year in a day if they wanted to. Mash was surprised to hear that there were dungeons with such an extreme warping of time. It was common knowledge to adventurers that dungeons that altered the passage of time wouldn’t change the rate at which you aged. So, if a year passed here, then he would age that much even if he only spent an hour within the dungeon. There were plenty of horror stories that talked about losing track of time and only returning to find that decades had passed. Mash wondered how old he wanted to be when becoming immortal. Mentally, he was already beyond his age, but he also knew that there were other reasons to not be a child.

He still acted rashly and often reacted extremely to small situations. When Mash had asked Red about it, she told him that there was a physical reason as to why kids acted like kids. Just throwing stats at a person didn’t change who they were. Well, it did a little bit, but not their personality as much as he expected. He still remembered the awkwardness he felt when he let his mind wander upon seeing Ellis. He hoped that was something that would lessen with age.

There was one concern, as he knew that meant that he would be missing all that time. His family wouldn’t see him for years if he went down that path, and he doubted his friends would join him for that. It was a fast way to grow older, but it was one he was hesitant to take. It might not be the worst idea to just take it easy and train until he grew up a bit, but that seemed extremely unlikely considering his experiences. He guessed that if he waited, he would probably end up thrown into a situation where he would be forced to advance, and then be stuck at his current age.

Finally, the fight above him ended, saving him from his wandering thoughts. The fighter who came down was covered in small cuts, and blood leaked from each of them. Mash didn’t know what happened, but the expression on the man’s face told him that he shouldn’t ask. There was an incredible amount of frustration on that man’s face, as his whole presence seemed to push people away. Mash decided to trust his instincts and let the man pass without making a comment.

Mash quickly took his place, excited for his own fight. Having decided to use so much of Priscilla’s power was making him eager. He wanted to see what he could do if he fully embraced the monster he had bonded with. Until now he had been merely using those he consumed, and this seemed like a step further than even his dragon form. He felt a little bad for the unfortunate elf, who would be wildly unprepared to face the power of an empowered dungeon monster. Mash couldn’t help but smile, as he felt Priscilla's own joy.