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Deathworld Commando: Reborn
Vol.7 Ch.181- Fruits Of Labor.

Vol.7 Ch.181- Fruits Of Labor.

“You’re making such a scary face. You should just relax,” Lin said with a chuckle. “Are you planning on watching more of today’s matches?”

Was I? Oops.

I straightened myself in the chair and nodded. “I am. There are some interesting bouts today, and one of them will decide my next opponent. I should at least watch that.”

Although I really do hope that she loses. I would rather avoid a fight with her if possible.

There was some commotion and heavy footsteps at the entrance. Lin and I both looked over to find Sylas marching straight to us. He looked less than pleased for some reason.

“That’s where you two have been,” he said with a sigh, letting his body drop into a seat next to me. “I’ve been looking for you two forever.”

“And you didn’t bother to check our seats?” Lin asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You two have never not been in the underground. I didn’t expect to find you all the way up here,” he complained as he dabbed the sweat off his forehead.

Did he run up the stairs or something? What’s the point of that?

“Did you manage to watch Cerila’s match?” I asked casually.

“I only caught brief glimpses of it. To be honest, I’m more interested in these next two,” Sylas answered.

“Indeed. Ren, Tsarra, and Adria Sandervile will make for an exciting third day,” Lin chimed in.

“Now we welcome our very own Princess Knight! Arene Maxwell!”

The crowd roared Ren’s name, and countless people stood up to clap and shake the stadium as she walked in. Sometimes, I really did forget that she was a princess. One that the people rather liked.

Ren’s strawberry-colored hair was tied back and bounced with each step as she waved back to the crowd. Her black-plated armor shined in the sunlight, along with her genuine smile that seemed to melt the hearts of many. Her armor wasn’t that of a knight per se, as it wasn’t full plate, and she was using the katana the school made for her.

Ren wore red leather pants that had black metal covering her thighs, knees, and shins, but that was all. She wanted a little more mobility and also didn’t wear a helmet. I figured that was part of her being a princess. I should convince her to wear one.

“Let us give our very best greetings to the young knight from Sandervile. Rosom Dun!”

Rosom strode out from his tunnel, wearing armor fit for a knight. The full plate armor was painted a vibrant orange, its outlines being a bright white. The young knight carried a long sword at his hip and waved at the crowd, who cheered on him, albeit in a far less enthusiastic way than they did for Ren.

“Ren’s been strong in this tournament. She’s really improved,” Lin commented.

Sylas nodded his head profusely. “Indeed. An accurate observation, dear sister.”

Lin let out a soft sigh and smiled wryly as she gazed over at me. “A certain someone’s training is really doing wonders for people.”

“I’m just—”

“Once again, you are correct, dear sister,” Sylas interrupted me. “It appears that Kaladin’s training over this last year and some have indeed increased our friends’ abilities by a noticeable degree. I never imagined that this ‘no mana enhancement’ style of training would be so successful. Perhaps it should be the new norm.”’

I just stared silently at Sylas, and he slowly turned his head to face me. “What’s wrong? Why are you both looking at me like that? Did I say something weird?”

Lin and I sighed in unison and turned our attention back to the arena. Ren and Rosom just finished shaking hands with the referee and were about to start their match. Rosom donned his helmet as well.

Sylas, either not caring or unbothered by us, stroked his chin and asked, “Kaladin, you knew Rosom Dun, correct? What is your opinion of him?”

“If you are asking my opinion of him as a person, I don’t really have one. He was…kind enough, I suppose. But as a knight, he was in the top five of the class for everything and was rather competent for that age. He even stood up against me after I killed all of our guards and escaped slavery, so he is rather brave, I suppose.”

Sylas looked very concerned for a moment but nodded. “Noted…”

The battle commenced, and the two students immediately began their clash. At first, the two just gauged each other’s strength with probing attacks and defense responses. Ren was quick, and her strikes were efficient. Rosom, however, never faltered.

Sparks flew as the katana met the longsword. Rosom’s defense was nothing to scoff at. He met all of Ren’s attacks head-on and countered, riposted, or straight-up blocked them with his Dwarven Steel longsword. As things stood, the two would continue to be evenly matched.

Well, they were both holding their cards to their chest. I know Ren hasn’t used her crystal magic the entire tournament. As for Rosom, as long as things haven’t changed over the last few years, he isn’t a mage.

However, judging by his soul…he has quite a bit of potential, about the same as Ren.

The fight continued, and the first person to successfully land an attack was actually Rosom. He used his sword almost like a club and redirected Ren’s slash to the side. With the forward momentum, he launched his elbow straight out and caught Ren’s arm with enough force to stagger her. Rosom quickly followed up with a pommel strike to Ren’s chest, but she managed to back away in the knick of time.

“It’s good to know that Sandervile isn’t filled with incompetent fools. If they could produce more individuals like Rosom, they may actually become a threat,” Lin commented offhandedly, seeming impressed by Rosom’s skills.

“Indeed. This Mr. Dumb shows promise,” Sylas agreed.

“It’s Dun…not dumb,” Lin said with a chuckle.

I grinned along with Sylas, but I had to agree. Sandervile had many things going for it, all things considered. It wasn’t a financially poor nation by any means, although it did lack material resources compared to its neighbor Whieland or the financial and trading powerhouse of Ostella. It was still a powerful nation with a strong military.

With abundant fertile land and a bursting population, Sandervile could afford to support a massive standing army, even as a simple city-state. Of course, it was still smaller than the Empire of Tel’an’duth or the Kingdom of Luminar, but when combined with even one of the other city-states that specialized in more elite troops, it was a formidable force.

It was a shame the city was plagued with corrupt nobles and schemes that kept the nation from genuinely growing—as well as outdated and even cruel systems of government. If an institution with genuine sway and power like Forward University or a strong leader like King Maxwell swept in, they could easily turn Sandervile into a more prosperous nation.

There was also the problem with being a part of a confederacy. The three city-states were allies when it only came to foreign pressure or keeping one another in check. Sandervile can never expand its horizons, as any attempt would see them surrounded on both sides.

Well, it’s not my problem. Not yet, anyway.

Back at the fight, Ren was back on the offensive. She received no lasting injuries from Rosom’s strike and was slowly whittling him down one move at a time. Rosom was still managing, but as time dragged on and he was forced to deal with Ren’s never-ending attacks, it was clear who was in better shape.

Rosom’s armor was starting to weigh him down. His perfect defense was beginning to show more and more cracks, allowing Ren to capitalize and land more hits. One such strike made a sizable gash in Rosom’s pauldron, forcing him back for the first time.

Ren was quick to chase after him, but she hesitated as Rosom deviated from his original responses. Instead of raising his sword to meet Ren, he simply brought an open palm up to her. To anyone else, it would appear he was ordering her to stop, but I could see the mana gather around one of his fingers in the shape of a ring. Rosom was going to use a dungeon item.

A purple crystal formed around Ren, encapsulating her just in time as an ear-piercing noise assaulted me, even going so far as to silence the excited crowd. The more sensitive races, such as myself, were brought to physical pain. It was high-pitched and indiscriminate, and despite being so far away from the origin point, I still had a hand to ear, trying to block the noise.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

If I were right in front of Rosom, it would have burst my eardrums, maybe even knocked me out if I had been unprepared. Even as a Human, Ren wouldn’t be safe from that kind of sound.

However, Rosom seemed unaffected by the noise and was already in front of Ren. His longsword cut the crystal in half, but Ren was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, the bottom half of the crystal broke apart like glass to reveal Ren. She was in a low, crouching stance. She nearly had her forehead on the floor.

Rosom was in the middle of a broad and powerful swing that had already cleaved the crystal, leaving him wide open. Ren brought the edge of her sword to Rosom’s head with a single quick slash and stopped it just shy of decapitating him.

My ears still rang, and the crowd was already shooting with fervor at the quick turnaround of a fight that was seemingly about who was the better sword user. Rosom let his sword drop to the dirt and motioned toward the referee for a surrender. Ren had won.

“The Princess Knight takes her very first official bout! Will she be able to follow the legacy of her brother and father?!”

“That was an interesting trick. It’s not only her physical abilities and sword skills that have improved, but her magic. I wonder who taught her that?” Lin pondered as she gave me a sly look.

“Ren has worked very hard, and she did it basically on her own. I only gave her some pointers. She can now control her magic and use it with far more precision than before. Even I’m impressed,” I explained honestly.

After my very first battle with Ren, when I arrived at Forward University, I gave her a few tips on how she could improve. For one, I told her to work on being less formulated in her approach. Her attacks used to follow a very specific and set pattern, which made it very easy to interpret and respond.

Although she was still a very disciplined and straightforward swordswoman, she incorporated more patterns and sequences into a fight and changed them on the fly to suit the situation. It made it harder to read her and thus beat her.

I also told her that she should use her crystal magic more offensively as I did for earth magic, but even now, that ability seemed to elude her as it cost far too much for her to handle. I know she has also worked on controlling her crystals from a distance, but I’m not sure if she has been able to learn that yet.

Either way, Ren’s control over her magic is twice as good as it was before. The old Ren wouldn't have been able to form a single crystal that quickly and even move inside of it to dodge Rosom’s attack.

She really has grown. I wonder what happens when she uses wide-scale crystal magic and the new techniques she learned from that book…just how strong is Ren?

“I’m looking forward to it,” I mumbled to myself.

“Are you talking to yourself now, Kala—”

“KAALADIN! KALLLADIN!”

Sylas’s comment was cut off by a booming voice that carried over even the audience’s collective tone. Everyone in the stadium looked over to the source, which just so happened to be the royal seats.

And there, shouting my name, was King Maxwell…smiling ear to ear as he held my daughter up in the air. How she got there, why she was with him, I had no idea. She was supposed to be in the family seating area with everyone else. All I could do was look on from afar. At the very least, Mila seemed excited as she waved to me.

Lauren was also there, as was Queen Maxwell, but…

“Well, at least you know that the king values you. It’s an honor to have a ruler hold your child,” Sylas said with a shrug.

“I’m sure it is…” I groaned.

“Shouldn’t you go get her?” Lin questioned.

“It should be fine. At the very least, Mila trusts Lauren, and so do I. Besides, sitting with the king is probably the safest place in the entire stadium…” I argued.

I just sighed and figured I would talk to King Maxwell later. I highly doubt he grabbed Mila out of malice or anything. The odds are he just happened to have walked by and, instead of just saying hi or something, picked her up and walked off.

This means either Sylvia or one of my parents let this happen…I’ll be having that conversation as well.

“Mmm? Clouds?” Sylas mused as he looked up at the sky.

Sure enough, the sun that had been beaming down onto the stadium was suddenly covered by clouds. This morning, I did see some forming over the ocean, but I didn’t think much about it. So far, the weather has been relatively nice in Flumare. I suppose a little rain wouldn’t hurt, either.

After the arena was swept up and the referee in position, the crowd welcomed the next two contestants. The first person was someone from Sandervile that I was unfamiliar with. The Human student wore brown robes and carried an expensive-looking staff made of gold and jewels. His opponent, on the other hand…

“Welcome, Her Royal Highness, Princess Tsarra Tel’an’duth!”

The crowd cheered for Tsarra as she walked out with her silver and white robes flowing behind her. In her hand was her new dark oak staff. The fist-sized deep green dungeon shard at the end seemed bright from even here as a golden claw attached it to the wood.

“Did you watch Tsarra’s qualifiers?” I asked Lin.

She nodded with a pensive look. “I did indeed. She overwhelmed her opponents with water magic. Her first fight ended with the opponent literally being swept off the platform.”

Interesting…I have yet to see Tsarra fight in a one-on-one battle. I’m curious to see how it goes.

The two mages met in the center, exchanged their pleasantries, and walked back to their starting spots. The referee raised their hand, and with the crowd’s cheers, the fight began.

The Sandervile opponent immediately raised his staff, and a large Fireball began to form at the tip, but before he could even grow it in size, Tsarra already had an enormous wall of water as tall as a man formed in front of her.

As if cutting a string, the wall of water swelled in size and crashed down onto the platform, rushing toward Tsarra’s opponent. The Sandervile mage responded by launching his Fireball directly into the incoming wave.

The orange sphere of magic burned and decimated the wave of water, nullifying it completely. That mage from Sandervile was clearly not an amateur, as he was not panicking in the slightest. Another Fireball was already forming, but Tsarra had launched another wave, followed up by another.

Wave after wave of blue water crashed onto the arena platform. It looked as if a real-life storm in the middle of the ocean had suddenly found itself on land. To the Sandervile’s mage credit, he met every wave with a destructive Fireball.

However, he was struggling. For every spell he cast, Tsarra cast two of her own. The Sandervile mage was slowly being overwhelmed as Tsarra continued to pressure him with water.

Was her plan to submit her opponents through attrition? It’s not a half-bad plan. If I were to compare Tsarra’s mana capacity to others, she would win eight out of ten times, especially with her equipment involved.

Even now, against her current opponent, she would win that way. But I know Tsarra. She is way more capable than this.

That much I am confident of.

The Sandervile mage, feeling the pressure, changed his plans. Instead of meeting the waves with balls of fire, he formed a wall. Steam rose and overtook the stadium as superheated magic met the waves. From our seats above, I watched as the Sandervile mage raised his hand and gathered mana for a second spell core.

It was often very difficult for a mage to form and maintain two separate spell cores. Yet, he was capable of it. No signs of distress or fatigue were on either of the mages’ faces.

A spear of orange fire appeared over the Sandervile mage’s head. It dripped orange flames onto the stone platform, and with a wave of his hand, the spear shot off and pierced the firewall. The spell was headed directly for Tsarra, but it never made it to the halfway point of the arena.

The waves swirling at the center sprung up and blocked and consumed the spear of fire, extinguishing the orange flames. The Sandervile mage continued to form more spears of fire and launched them at a variety of angles. Some went high with an arch, trying to hit Tsarra like a siege weapon. Others even went around the waves and skirted the edges of the arena.

Regardless, Tsarra blocked them all and continued forming more and more water waves. At this point, the sides of the arena were being flooded with water. The poor referee was in the middle of it all, his vision almost completely blocked off. The only reason he was still standing was because of the barrier mages protecting him from Tsarra’s water and the Sanderviles mage’s explosions.

But it was also around this time that something changed. Tsarra raised her other arm, and a single, tiny ball of water shot out. Without my Dragon eye, it was impossible to follow the spell as it swam through the torrent. But that tiny little ball no bigger than the palm of a hand burst through the flame wall.

The Sandervile mage looked taken back but smirked at the ball as it approached him. He used his gaudy staff to bat the ball away, but instead of bursting apart or spiraling away harmlessly, something else happened.

The ball grew in size rapidly.

The palm-sized ball expanded in the blink of an eye into a vast bubble that morphed around the Sandervile mage, swelling him up. The mage attempted to burn his way out with fire, but every hole he made was quickly patched up. He quickly lost concentration, and the firewall dispersed with a flicker.

That’s when the waves came crashing in. The water from the waves didn’t just glide past the bubble that was holding the mage but rather began to fill it up. The crowd looked on with shock as, in a matter of moments, the Sandervile mage was thrashing around helplessly in the bubble, drowning.

Sylas shot out of his seat and leaned over the ledge. “This! This can’t be! Tsarra… she wouldn’t—” he trailed off.

I wonder… are Tsarra’s goals that serious? Is she capable of snuffing out a life in such a way in order to accomplish said goals?

One of the incoming waves washed the bubble and mage away, sending him off the platform. The referee called the match the second the bubble popped, and the mage hit the ground.

Sylas looked relieved as he sat back in his chair. Lin seemed to be of the same mind as me.

Tsarra may have experienced the deaths of many, but that is still not the same as killing someone. Killing a stranger by suffocation as well, Tsarra and many others don’t have the mental fortitude to do that. Not yet, anyway.

The announcer signaled Tsarra’s victory, and the crowd responded with their applause. Medical mages were quickly dispatched, and the student from Sandervile was whisked away, still alive at that.

“Good to know…” Lin mumbled quietly with a faint smile.

“Please allow our staff a moment to prepare the stage! Up next is the Mayor of Sandervile’s daughter. The Rose Maiden!”