As Be'larien leapt out of the path of the Pavutki's initial charge, which took place at nearly Mach 2, she came to a few realizations. First, she'd been massively under-utilizing her Neural Processing ability. She'd been interacting with the world like she was still human, but now that she focused, the entire world practically slowed to a stop. It was actually quite daunting. She was analyzing absolutely everything, from tiny shifts in air current and ground vibration to micro-scale muscle movements. Her human brain would've been fried a million times over.
Second, her 'stats' were heavily skewed. Her Neuro-Muscular Response only fell behind her Neural Processing by a bit, but even with her armor her physical abilities were two full ranks lower. Her body was completely incapable of performing at her mental standards. Even though nerve impulses were sent at ridiculous speed, her muscles weren't capable of expanding and contracting fast enough to keep up. All of her movements in her current mental state, even reactive ones, had to be carefully pre-calculated so the muscles would perform their required actions at the pre-set future moment. It was terribly frustrating, and said frustration just made her want to kill this thing even more.
And finally, she realized the 'Life Story' hadn't just f*cked her over. All the 'Skills' she had gotten in character creation were placed in her mind as 'knowledge', which for practical purposes was close to useless. You can be uploaded with all the moves and combat experience of a master martial artist, but you can't really use it properly without the years of training that build muscle memory and instantaneous judgment in combat. But the 'Life Story' carried all that practical experience and, apparently, muscle memory. As evidenced in the fact she hadn't consciously dodged.
Such thoughts were placed on hold as she rolled under the creatures swinging tail, the bone blade at the tip missing her by an inch. This was followed up by more dodging and rolling as the giant snake tried to use its blade-tipped tail to dice her like a vegetable. While it was apparent the 'Unarmed Combat: Expert' was showing its use, Be'larien felt it was perhaps time to get some use out of 'Sword Proficiency: Apprentice'. After all, the Mithrinite sword wasn't for decoration.
Or maybe not, as the Pavutki reared up in preparation to spit. Be'larien moved toward the serpent's head in a rapid zig-zag motion, altering her rhythm and speed to prevent accurate targeting. As the jet of venom sprayed from the creatures mouth, Be'larien quickly accelerated to her limits with the suit, which was pushing Mach 3. The venom missed, a violent 'hiss' behind her indicating the substance eating into the floor. She quickly arrived next to the serpent's body. Some might be tempted at this point to jump up and cut off the serpent's head. Be'larien wasn't that stupid, at least not after the 'Life Story'. First rule when fighting a giant beast that also moves really fast: DON'T JUMP!
She used two quick cuts to gouge out a chunk of the Pavutki's flesh, and then quickly retreated to avoid the blade-tipped tail that was spearing towards her. The Pavutki roared in outrage and pain as blood gushed from the wound. It turned its deadly and hate-filled gaze upon the insect that dared harm it. And Be'larien stared right back, a smile on her face and her hearts racing in her chest. Hell yeah! Now this is what I'm talking 'bout!
Of course, it would be as Be'larien was most excited about the fight that the action came to an abrupt, and embarrassing, end. Because as the engraged serpent stared at the tiny Thelossian, it finally noticed the even tinier creature on top of her head. At first it couldn't understand why it hadn't felt the very tiny creature earlier, as it had a superb level of perception. But as it focused on that very tiny creature, the serpent suddenly felt something it never had before. The Thelossian posed a threat, and it would fight for its life against said threat, but it didn't feel a threat from the creature on her head. It felt TOTAL ANNIHILATION.
Be'larien's eyes almost bugged out as the Pavutki immediately stopped threatening, laid down, and proceeded to try and act tiny and harmless. You don't know the meaning of surreal until you've watched a 30 meter long and a meter and a half wide snake try to act cute and harmless. The entire audience was dead silent, their mouths agape as they watched the monstrous beast curl up and act playful, doing little peek-a-boos from between its coils with an innocent, vacant expression in its eyes. All while the gaping wound Be'larien had cut continued to bleed.
The eyes of the audience kept glancing back and forth between the combatants, until some began to take notice of the tiny deer on Be'larien's head. As some realized just what Hasa was, the news quickly spread among the crowd. And then, almost as one, the entire audience erupted into raucous laughter. This had to be the greatest farce in The Arena in a century. People were falling out of their seats from laughing too hard. Be'larien felt like her cheeks were on fire. Hasa, what the hell, man!
She felt Hasa's amused snort in her hair. It is not my fault your opponent has excellent perception.
What do you mean, 'excellent perception'?! If it's so 'excellent' why didn't this happen from the beginning?
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Simple, Hasa replied, I was masking my presence.
Then why did you stop?!
I didn't.
Now Be'larien was confused. If you didn't stop, then what the hell is THAT?! She motioned at the giant serpent that was still trying to act like it was the most harmless creature in existence.
Hasa patiently explained. Masking my presence doesn't mean it is eliminated. When you and the beast were staring at each other it focused on me, allowing it to perceive my power. That is also why I say it has excellent perception, as most beasts still wouldn't notice my power in the same situation.
Be'larien was left speechless. She'd finally gotten out of her head, forgotten just how f*cked she felt, and was excited for life in a way she couldn't remember ever being back on Earth. And now... Gah! I was actually having fun! Why couldn't you let me have this, God?! Why?!
Giving one last disgusted look to the still acting serpent, Be'larien sighed and felt her shoulders slump. Putting her sword back in sub-space storage she trudged back to the gate she'd entered from, which opened as she approached. The audience was still dying of laughter as she exited the arena floor.
She was met by the coordinator in the waiting area. He was obviously barely managing to maintain a straight face. Be'larien felt like punching him. Seeming to sense this, the man quickly spoke. He was quite fortunate he managed to control his voice to sound normal.
"The Arena thanks you for your patronage. While this fight was... unorthodox, you have emerged victorious. Your deposit has been refunded to your account."
"Whatever," Be'larien mumbled as she just continued walking past, wanting to leave The Arena as soon as possible. As she rode the elevator back up to the main floor, she sent a thought to Hasa. Next time, I'm leaving you in the waiting area.
She felt Hasa's dry amusement in his return. As you wish.
On her way out of the building, and as she went grab another public transport, Be'larien felt quite irked. She felt worse now than when she'd arrived at The Arena. F*cking stupid snake. Couldn't just fight to the death. Now what the hell am I supposed to do to de-stress? *sigh* F*ck this, I need a drink.
Climbing into a transport, Be'larien said, "Nearest bar."
The flight was blessedly short. Be'larien stepped out of the transport to see a place that could optimistically be called a dive. There were broken bottles on the ground, smoke leaking through cracks, and the distinct sound of drunken arguments. Suddenly there was a crash and the door opened to eject, quite literally, a tall, dog-like man who crashed into the ground just a little to the left of Be'larien. She smiled. I might just get to kill something after all. Hasa remained immaculately unconcerned.
Walking into this futuristic alien dive was rather anti-climactic. Apparently, even on an intergalactic scale, if you've seen one dive you've seen them all. There was a bar, neon signs, games of chance and skill, and people of questionable race and ilk. Be'larien quite liked it.
There were several people that looked at her as she entered. Some of the looks were assessing, others were lust-filled, but all of them only lasted a moment before they very deliberately removed their attention. These people were mostly all scum, but they weren't so stupid as to challenge an armored Thelossian. Especially one with a terrifying little deer sitting on her head. Be'larien was actually a little disappointed. Guess I won't be killing anything after all.
She made her way to the bar, giving the occasional once over to the few humanoid females she saw. Most weren't worth a second glance. Just before she reached the bar she did spot one that made her stop in her tracks. The woman was only decently attractive, and was a bit overly muscular, but that wasn't what made Be'larien stop. Holy sh*t, it's a Sa*yan!
Of course that wasn't the actual name of the race. They were known as Maldarthans, and for the most part they looked human, though with uniform black hair and a tan skin tone. The primary difference was they had a prehensile, furred tail and slightly pointed ears, along with a definitive warrior culture. Still, they were damn near identical to that iconic anime race.
The woman noticed Be'larien's attention and turned from talking with her companions to look at Bel. Giving a thorough up and down appraisal to Be'larien, the woman smiled flirtatiously and winked at her before turning back to her companions. Be'larien's eyes tracked down the woman's back to her gently swaying tail and the tight ass it was attached to. Unconsciously licking her lips, Be'larien thought, I'm so tapping that.
Realizing her libido was making itself known, Be'larien quietly cursed and arrived at the bar. The bartender was a male E'buka, looking like an anthropomorphic fox with green fur. Giving Be'larien a short searching look, he asked the age old question, "What'll it be?"
"A pint of Ipsin."
The fox's eyes widened. "What's your NP?"
The bartender's question meant her Neural Processing rank, and for what she ordered and the amount, it was standard procedure to ask. Ipsin was a highly controlled drink, being lethal to beings with less than about a 60 in NP. A normal human would be brain dead in less than 2 seconds after drinking a thimble full. If the bartender served it to a non-approved race he'd quickly be jailed for manslaughter.
"82," she answered. The E'buka's eyes widened once again, but he poured her drink and served it.
Ipsen was a non-carbonated drink, and was a blue so bright it looked to be glowing. Someone with an NP in the 60s would treat this stuff like hard liquor, and someone in the 70s like it was wine or a strong beer. Be'larien would be lucky if a pint of it could even take the edge off.
Just as she was bringing the drink to her lips she heard a shout that made her pause. It was someone cursing, but she couldn't immediately put her finger on why it was important. Then her eyes bulged and she slammed her drink back on the bar as she spun around. That cursing is in f*cking English!