Ivan was panting and sweating. His body ached. His mind was clouded as though there was a fog over it. He slowly pushed himself up and felt Penelope's hands on his back. She was getting on his nerves. He didn't know that she would be this demanding and exacting. Proper technique was everything, his tongue had to be just right. She had been guiding his inexperienced hands all the while and he was still messing it up and ending too early. He was barely able to make it through even one session without passing out. Day after day it was like this. She pressured him, pushing him to keep on again and again. It was so hard to keep focused. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mana was definitely entirely gone leaving him two kinds of exhausted.
“Good job on that one.” Penelope said, kneeling down right beside him in a crouch. The scent of her growing intoxicating as it always did before he shoved her away. He was of course careful not to let his hands touch the blade now present in the circle of blood in front of him.
There were two dead goats nearby and an open bag holding more traditional ritual supplies beside him. Penelope grinned at him from where she fell to her knees, her goat-like feet splayed out beneath her. The angle she was at...she bent purposefully as she started getting up and Ivan had to look away quickly with his face burning. She just would NOT wear pants! Or a skirt, sash, or anything! How was he supposed to concentrate on these strange demonic rituals with her flashing him every chance she got?
The black blade shone with a mirror finish that was at once a mirror into the world and a small portal to a lake of blood beyond. It was unsettling to say the least, but also gave off a certain hunger that Ivan understood now. It wanted to kill. It wanted to be used to kill and take life.
“That is most certainly Quixla's Bloodletting Shadow Dagger.” Penelope said coming forward again to purposefully bend down near him again and give him peaks at her fur-less underside. Her breasts being exposed were bad enough, but he had least learned to ignore them. Her eyes were dangerous too though. And her horns. He hadn't figured out what was wrong with her horns, but staring at them instead of her face or breasts made the world seem gray and shadowy the more he looked. His newest solution was looking at her nose, but that itself was hard enough. She had a cute face; a too pretty face.
She lifted the small, thick bladed and short knife. Its handle was wrapped in some kind of ragged black leather. Its pommel looked like a rough hewn three pointed obsidian crown. She turned it over in her hands, her rectangular irises focusing down to circles in the cool afternoon shadows. She giggled, turning the blade over in her hands.
“This one will be better than some of the others. At least if we can find more people for you to kill today. The blade will last for a week, but every kill we get will increase the odds and there's plenty of those militia of light types still around.” She said cheerfully.
She practically bounced on her hoofs over to him as he forced himself upright. The cost of body and mind it took to do these rituals were exhausting and she had him doing them several times a day. When they made a kill or tracked down isolated forces of the God of Light she would have him either overwhelm them with his own skills while sometimes aiding him with her shadow magic or lure one or two of men away from him to kill with their senses beguiled. Each time they did anything she made sure he was doing some kind of ritual work. Most were offerings of some kind. The concept wasn't strange to Ivan. He had offered many tributes to the church and the Goddess herself. Human life was a new one though. Ivan still couldn't find it in himself to pity any of them as long as they wore the Lord of Light's colors or bore his banner of three rays of light on their chests.
Ivan's Occult Ritualist Job was growing quickly however with Penelope as a guide. Like his own scribe skill allowing him to reach into the alchemist job before he had truly attained it for himself or had the equipment for it, Penelope was able to provide him with knowledge of ritual offerings he had no means of learning on his own. Instead of stumbling blindly and wondering what path he should take Penelope had already chosen and made ready which of the Demons he made offers to.
There was the Offering to the Depths, which had been painstaking for the need to drown his offering alive within the ritual circle. The Offering to the Shadow which hadn't been as difficult really, but had left a certain impression since that first time had been in the complete darkness of a moonless night. They had done both of those rituals several times before they moved on to the ritual: Offering to the Blood.
Those offerings required more than just one or two victims, and always more with each offering. The Offering to the Depths required that the victim be alive, and his mind free of psychic muddling. The Offering to the Shadow required the same really, but the victim had to be terrified when the final sacrifice was performed. The Offering to the Blood preferred gross quantity,and quickly repeated with escalating numbers of bodies. Dead or alive. The first offering had been three. The second six. The third time they had done it Ivan had dragged twelve bodies around the pentagram before enacting the rite with Penelope always there to guide and watch his every step. She was a help with the pronunciation of the demonic words needed for each ritual and genuinely seemed practiced and ready to teach him all sorts of things. She tried to tempt him constantly, girlish at times, casually at others, and more seriously again and again as their days together went on.
That had been all it took to raise his Occult Ritualist Job to level 2 however. That in turn allowed him the next step in the Offering of Blood; along with the usual benefits that came with leveling up a new job. His intelligence had been boosted offering him more mana, and he had greater ease besides with any Occult Rituals he used from now on.
Now that he was a Level 2 Occult Ritualist there was a host of weapons, conjured and cursed things to be gifted to him from hosts in the demon realms to be used at the hands of mortals with the knowledge and temerity to call upon them. There was a price and leaving them idle would quickly anger those beings that offered such magical conjurations, but if one used them and used them well before returning before they expired... That Penelope assured him this was the quickest way to gaining various gifts from demon-kind. That included gaining the ability to summon the weapon used in the offering freely if he could trust everything she was telling him. She hadn't betrayed him so far, and there was little else he could do now that he was on this path.
The weeks he had held and cared for his beloved Tanya were burned into his mind. The perish where he lived was no bastion of war. It had little in the way of soldiers to make its grounds safe other than him. And he had been away. He was messenger, and courier more than he was truly some kind of guardian to the temples of Istania. It hadn't stopped him from training. It hadn't kept him from fighting monsters from time to time, and answering the call of villagers who had spotted this or that other dangerous creature in the woods. He had sworn to serve and protect everyone. Everyone. And now…
Now as he took hold of the black black he felt nothing but hatred for anyone who had been a part of betraying his Goddess and her people. He would ravage them. He tear apart their bodies, drown, and murder them for the simple reason that they had done as much and more to his people, his family, and his very Goddess. He would rip them apart and burn them for the fuel he needed to set fire to the God of Light and his empire. His grip on the dagger was so tight that it made the leather creak. He felt a cruel smile playing over his face even as inside he was boiling over with hatred. He had to fight not to laugh for a few moments until just as quickly he needed the hand over his face to keep from throwing up.
“Shhhh...” Ivan heard in his ear. Quickly the fight changed and he needed to draw himself away from Penelope's allure. It was hard. Doing this ritual had exhausted him and in his moment of weakness she had closed in.
He felt her fingers drift over his cheek and jaw. The sweet and sharp animal scent of her demonic body filled his nose. He couldn't help but see her arms reaching and touching him, but he trained his eyes away from her face or chest. He couldn't look at her. His mind remembered what it was like to taste her mouth, and the soft touch of her skin, even just that of her hands, was too much for him to pull away from. He fought, and was breathing hard through his nose as he tried to keep his earlier queasiness to a minimum.
“Remember Ivan...” Penelope whispered. Her voice seemed far away with Ivan's head stuck in some place filled with nothing but the ground under his feet and her scent in his head. “There is a long road ahead. In the days ahead these bodies will be as nothing. Innocent and guilty both will lay at your feet. But you will have your vengeance. Remember her... Remember why...”
Ivan's breathing increased in pace. Her scent, her touch, everything about her suddenly seemed to be gently assaulting his mind. He had to resist. He had to...
One Year Ago...
“Get him Ivan! Take him down!” Tanya yelled, her voice clear and sharp to his ears even over the pounding of his heart and the cheer of the crowd around the wooden arena.
Steel rang as blunted blades clashed and Ivan faced down the local commander of the Militia of Light. It was the third round, and they both fought to move ahead to the semi-finals. Tournaments like this were always good and Ivan always took part. Partially because his tutors and mentors over the years had told him so, and he could admit to himself, because he liked the rush of fighting another knight or fighter.
These tournaments were always separated by Job Ranks, but any second tier fighting jobs could enter. And it didn't matter just how many of them one had either.
Ivan was attacking the local militia commander, Bosco Doogan, and was slowly overwhelming him with attack after attack. The crowd went wild as Ivan used his array of second tier martial jobs to drive the stolid commander back, breaking their earlier rounds of careful probing and testing. Clash after clash, counter attack, parry and reverse all came with masterful footwork they had both displayed in rounds before. Yet something this time was different and the crowd seemed to know it.
Sparks flew as Ivan came down and exhausted all of Bosco's martial power options in attempts to drive Ivan off the assault. Martial skills did not use mana, instead draining the physical reserves of the body faster than ordinary attacks, but many of them produced magic like special effects. And many had long cool downs that spells and spell-like abilities traded for higher mana costs when used quickly.
Bosco defended Ivan's rush, but it drained him. He had the Fighter Job, and the title job of Militia Sergeant, but only Fighter compared to each of Ivan's three second tier combat jobs. The leadership title job of sergeant helped him command troops and restore their morale and stamina as long as he was among them. One on one those skills helped with nothing. The man was sweating and panting and just barely keeping his feet. Ivan was just now breaking a sweat after using a variety of his own special attacks. Even then his Paladin Job had passive skills that reduced the cost of his special attacks that stacked with a special combination skill called Conditioning that he got by having both the Knight and Fighter Jobs. Though the skill itself belonged to the Knight Job.
Ivan saw his moment and rushed with Shield Bash. Bosco was able to turn his shield into it to take most of the blow, but didn't have the stamina to turn the martial skill aside completely. Ivan tossed him to the ground as he followed Shield Bash, a paladin skill, with Battering Ram, a Knight Skill meant to break down interior doors in a siege or raiding action. It was a great skill that was hard to spot, and the combination of the two was well known and liked by the various teachers Ivan had come to know over the years.
Bosco rolled back with the blow trying to keep out of Ivan's reach lest he score more points as he tried to get to his feet, but Ivan kept his charge moving following after. So Ivan was right on to use War Stomp, a level 5 warrior ability with a short cone like effect in front of the user, and turned the earth Bosco rolled upon into a hammer that struck his back and bounced him a few inches into the air.
Bosco's breath came from him in a violent burst as if he had been thrown to the ground from ten feet instead of trying to roll away. By the time he caught his breath and came back to his senses Ivan stood above him with the tip of his blunt blade pointed at his neck and the crowd was roaring.
Ivan grinned down at the older man, visible through the barred face guard of his helm and offered the man his shield hand. Bosco huffed over his mustaches and took Ivan's hand. The old man couldn't help but grin a little even then as the crowd cheered their sportsmanship.
Ivan helped the older man up with ease and the two held up their swords to the crowd arm in arm even as the squire attending the scoring polls hefted Ivan's banner high into the air. It was just the symbol of Istania in blue on a white background, but it was Ivan's traditional banner ever since she had accepted his oath. That oath and the gifts that came from it made Ivan her paladin both in name and with the resulting Job that came of it. While Fighter and a Divine Gift could create certain skills to protect an arms-men sworn to a God or Goddess, it was only with the Knight Job and Divine Gift that one could get the Paladin Job. Of course, a priest who learned to ride and fight could do the same, but such would really be rare in the Church of Istania.
“Yeah Ivan!” Tanya screamed from the crowd loud enough to make Ivan hunch his shoulders.
The people cheered and roared as a display of magic appeared on both sides of the oblong arena. It was meant to handle everything in this one place, including even the Joust, but that was always saved for the final day of the summer games. Above them Ivan's banner moved into place against the finalist. The people of Istania's Capital, Istan, cheered seeing the two favorites finally meet.
The Blue and White Caduceus met with the Golden Banner of Light in the final round.
Ivan left Bosco with a hand shake and left to join with his two squires, Jen, and Ral. The girl and boy grinned at him, both about ten more or less; it was hard to tell sometimes with orphans. They had on their tabards just like him, even if Jen's arms did look a little skinny in hers. She would grow and fill out now that she was really starting to train.
“You did it Ivan! You beat Bosco again this year!” Ral was saying as Ivan handed him the blunt sword.
Ivan rustled Jen's hair as she brought him a water skin. She blushed and put both hands up to fix her short cut hair. Only then to be caught off guard again as Ivan leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Ivan caught Ral meanwhile and hugged the scrawny boy to his side too before letting them both go. Ivan barely stood apart from them both before Tanya crashed into his back and threw her arms around his neck. She put her whole weight into him knowing he was more than strong enough to support her.
He laughed and both Ral and Jen rushed him then too to try and pull him down.
“The key is to take him by surprise. Never fight Ivan face to face!” Tanya instructed, laughing as Ivan staggered into the offside ready area with the three of them clinging to him. “Quick! Tie up his legs! If we get him down we'll win!” Tanya yelled, eagerly encouraging the two young squires.
Ivan grunted as Tanya wrapped her legs over his hips and started trying to pull him off balance with her weight and the strength of her arms, but not before Ivan's fingers found Jen's ticklish collar bones. She squealed and darted away behind their friend Delco, a city blacksmith who always helped the church. Delco was laughing uproariously as Ral put all his might into trying to lift Ivan's right leg off the ground. The boy was strong, but working all the wrong angles. Ivan was able to tie him up even with Tanya on his back and soon enough had the boy off his feet in a loose, but crushing submission hold. Ral's face turned dark red against his tan skin as he fought against the hold.
“I give. I give Ivan.” Ral grunted with effort, his one loose arm flailing at his master.
Ivan grinned as Tanya started giggling still on his back. It took a little more rough housing, but eventually Ivan got her hands free and used the wood fence around the ready area to offset Tanya enough that he could start to pull her over his shoulders. She roared with laughter trying to keep her skirts in place, only matched by Delco's continued mirth.
“Put me down! Ivan! IVAN!!!” Tanya cried, but once Ivan had her stuck up on his shoulder he went past Delco and out of the back of the arena to a large nearby horse trough filled with water. “IVAN! IVAN NO! IVAN!!!!” Tanya squealed, the sound of it only matched by the high pitched yelp and splash as Ivan tossed her like a heavy sack of gain into it.
He returned to Delco to get another blunted sword that wouldn't have any burs. Already Delco had the other and a few choice river stones ready to make the rough edge round again. Ivan grinned at him as he heard the splashing of cold water and gasping breaths of Tanya behind him.
Delco shook his head. Ivan got the water skin from where it fell and took a huge drink after doffing his helm. Delco looked at that over a moment and handed it back after a glancing inspection.
“Who's the next guy again?” Ivan asked as he drank and focused on recovering for his next match. He took a deep breath of the air. The scent of people and good food filled his nose, but there was as always the smell of horse and what came with them too. He loved tournament days.
“Thomas Daal.” Delco answered. “The brand new Hero of light. He's got no levels in it yet so they let him compete. Some say he's a sign Theadus wants to turn to peace, and seems a good kid from what I've heard from others working the smithy quarter. Just a little older than you I think. Maybe nineteen?”
Ivan nodded and looked across the way as the other young man got himself ready. His gear was expensive looking. Ivan's was just solid mail around a tasseted vest like brigdine of banded mail to protect his ribs. Ivan checked his shield straps and took up the other blade from Delco. A few minutes more to let him rest and they would be on to the next match. The crowd was already losing it.
He heard Tanya finally pull herself fully from the horse trough and come in behind him. Ivan glanced at Delco who suddenly had a hand over Ral's eyes.
“Delco! What the heck!” Ral complained, but was ignored.
“Jen why don't you bring Tanya that cloak laying over there? She can dry herself with it.” Delco instructed.
Jen turned from staring at a soaking wet and likely fuming Tanya to run and do as was asked of her. Behind him Ivan heard Tanya thank the girl softly and begin drying herself.
“Jerk.” Tanya said when she finally came and stood next to him wrapped in the cloak.
He glanced at her with something ready on his tongue to chide her, but lost it as he noticed what he could see clearly defined through her clean white shirt and shift. Tanya noticed and color came to her pale cheeks, but his gaze didn't drive her away. She bumped him with her shoulder instead and drew the cloak over her breasts.
“Perv.” She mumbled, but there was heat in her eyes. It made him think of how the night before she had taken the chance to ambush him in the hallway of the Inn they were staying in. Ivan remembered the taste of her lips and the supple curves of her hips under his hand. That got him blushing too.
She shivered then and sneezed. It was adorable the way she squeaked when she did that.
“Now I'll be sick. Great. Thanks Ivan.” She said dryly as she pawed at her nose with the cloak.
“Hey!” Delco complained. It was his cloak Ivan supposed.
Tanya stuck her tongue out at him.
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“Isn't fighting a guy with the Hero Title Job kind of cheating?” Tanya asked.
“Isn't fighting with three Standard Class Jobs too?” Ivan asked dryly.
Tanya gave him a shrewd glare for a moment before letting it go and then shrugging with a casual air.
“I suppose. You've earned yours though. I don't like those title Jobs. It's like cheating.” Tanya said to him then.
Ivan nodded in casual agreement.
“I suppose it kind of is.” Ivan said aloud.
“Don't knock it.” Said a new voice, her aura spilling gently over them both.
Ivan and Tanya both reacted in similar ways. Their last encounter with the owner of that voice had prevented the two of them from possibly breaking their oaths of chastity. The Church of Healing knew all about babies and growth, but they still didn't want their members having children too early. So they both knew they were blushing when the two of them glanced at each other before turning to greet the Goddess.
Istania appeared as she often did. Her hair was a wild mass of dark red braids, colored beads, and roughly cut gemstones. Her eyebrows were thick with the same color hair and her eyes shone like green grass. She took the form of an imposing woman of great stature, and wore the tribal paints of the long forgotten past, but in thin minimal designs about her cheeks and brow. She grinned as Ral and Jen ran to her to be taken up in her arms. They clung to her as they would their own mother and Istania had them both, one on each hip, as she came forward to Ivan and Tanya.
“Greetings Great Mother, Goddess of Healing, and--” They both began.
Both of them bowed their heads. Istania scoffed and kissed them both lightly on the brow.
“Enough of that. I'm here to see my champion off well. No need to draw all sorts of attention.” She told them.
Ivan and Tanya looked up at her smiling. The Goddess raised an eyebrow at them, and with casual effort lifted Jen onto her shoulders to straddle her neck and pulled the two of them under her arm. Ivan and Tanya weren't so old yet as to have forgotten the Goddess's motherly tendencies and both came willingly into the hug that followed.
Ivan's thoughts lingered on the gentle aura of his Goddess as she brushed his sweaty hair and used some gentle magics on him to cleanse him of all his fatigue and bruises. Tanya was suddenly dry too now and he heard her sigh gently in the Goddess's embrace. The Goddess let them both go then with another kiss on the brow and motherly touches about their faces.
Ral grinned at Ivan, but soon had his hands full as Istania took to roughly ruffling his hair.
“Going to have to cut this again soon. You're going to be a tall one Ral.” Istania said to him before setting him down. She brought Jen down and set her near him. “You two run up and take some seats next to Father Julian and Mother Melda.” She told them. “Oh and get something to eat.”
“Yes Mother.” Both of the young squires said before taking off at a run.
“Now you two. Ivan…Tanya…” Istania said, taking them both in with her large almost shining eyes. “You haven't forgotten what I told you before in my temple have you? I'm trying to keep my touch light here or else I would already know, but I don't want the two of you pinned down with a baby just yet. You have yet to do your first mission and you can't do that with a baby on your hip. Well you could, but it really would complicate things.”
“And you wouldn't get to see the baby whenever you want when we're outside of your lands.” Tanya said, her cheeks red, but with her hand clasped around Ivans as she stood at his side. It felt like there were a dozen fluttering hummingbirds in his chest. His mind kept the promise between him and Tanya in a seal boxed somewhere inside his head. It was a treasure he had, but wasn't old enough to hold yet. But soon he would be. They were so close. He squeezed Tanya' hand and she squeezed back right away.
Istania gave Tanya a dry look, but Tanya stood her ground; even raising her chin to the Goddess for a few moments. She was fighting off a grin at the Goddess's dry stare, but eventually Istania gave out and sighed loudly. Her face broke into a smile and she shook her head at Tanya.
“I suppose you, like all my priestess's know very well my weakness for newborns. That is one thing throughout the ages that has never changed for me. And with kids like you that will never change. I can almost see how the both of you will beam at me when you finally get home from your journey. You're building a house outside the temple. Nearby of course, but you remember what I told you.” Istania said giving them both a dry look.
“You are aware of what happens on your holy grounds. Yes Mother we remember.” Tanya said, her face almost tomato red, and her voice not far off from being just a collection of rushed squeaks.
Ivan felt cold sweat on his brow and was trying very hard not to look guilty as he remembered the night with Tanya. She had sneaked into his room. They talked for a little while. And then kissed for a little while. And then...and then well...things progressed and they lost their clothes to get more comfortable, and... Ivan felt his cheeks coloring.
Istania gently swatted the back of his head, seeming to have suddenly moved right in front of him.
“You have a fight to focus on, mister.” She chided dryly.
“I'm sorry my Goddess.” Ivan said sheepishly. He glanced at Tanya, her grip was iron on his own, but she was looking away from him and still bright red in the face.
Istania sighed, but then took him under her arm and directed him toward the arena.
“You're facing Thomas Daal. He's Theadus's new hero of light. He's not like you having trained all his life with labor jobs, but he's been training recently. He was an artist beforehand, but Tanya's right. He has the Hero job. It's not giving him any more bonuses than what you're getting from your own jobs for now at least, but it will help him adapt to fighting.” The Goddess said, instructing and advising him as she often did.
Ivan nodded.
“So take him out fast, go for elimination instead of fighting out the rounds?” Ivan asked.
“I don't know. Just beat the crap out of him. It will help him either way.” Istania said blithely.
Ivan looked up at his Goddess with a dry humorless look.
“What?” She asked.
“Can he really manage that against his Title Job? Hero is one of the highest Jobs we know about. Surely even its lowest levels grant serious benefits.” Tanya asked, coming near and looking out over the field.
“Sure. The Hero Job is great, but not so much as the combined might and experience that comes with all the jobs before it. Ivan will be more than a match for the young hero if only in skill and toughness. The kid might have trainers, but I doubt they are beating him into the dirt like he needs. Even if they are, he's an art student, and not a born fighter like Ivan.” The Goddess mused aloud casually.
Ivan eyed her again and she blinked at him, seeming confused.
“What is it dear?” She asked.
Tanya laughed.
“He still hasn't forgiven you for calling him a bad kid all those years ago.” She said hiding her continued giggles behind her hand. “It really drove him to prove you wrong. Which is kind of all the more funny actually. He's always fighting to do better, to be better, always fighting with himself to get more done. It fits him pretty well.” Tanya said, but her renewed grip on his hand was warm and reassuring. Her eyes twinkled too in that way that usually told him he could get away with a kiss. It was too bad they weren't alone.
“He was. He was mean to everyone but a certain young girl he liked more than anyone else.” The Goddess complained.
Ivan rolled his eyes. Tanya laughed. Delco chuckled too for that matter.
“I've told you. I didn't like that the other kids bullied her.” Ivan said gruffly.
Istania nodded at him and turned her own dry glare on him. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“So when the priest had to heal back four teeth and soothe three crying boys from the village, was that justified? We've talked about this before Ivan. Fighting is no good if all we do is hurt each other.” She told him, the latest addition to a countless number of times he had been told that before.
“So why let me compete in the tournaments then?” Ivan asked, raising his own eyebrow back at the Goddess.
She frowned at him, her face half in a pout, and took his helmet from his hands and slipped it back onto his head.
“Because I like to see you test yourself. Facing the best and the willing in a controlled environment is about as good a situation as I can provide. You might have been a bad kid at first, but with a little love and care you turned out just fine Ivan. I have high hopes for you and always have. Since the day you were brought to my church you've been my son and nothing will ever change that. Good or bad, I will always be here to guide you.” Istania told him, her deep and ancient green eyes shining with love and affection.
Ivan looked to his Goddess from under the visor of his barred helm, unable to fight the warm reassurance that came with his Godess’s words. She smiled at him and rubbed his shoulders as the announcer began introducing the last match. Ivan clenched tight to Tanya's hand.
“I'll win then. And maybe you'll see that I'm ready to go with Tanya on our mission. I can keep her safe.” Ivan said, keeping his voice level and even. He knew there was a light of challenge in his eye just by how Istania looked down at him. But she smiled at him.
“We'll see. It's dangerous out there. You'll need friends. Maybe we try sending you out to fight some of the local monsters this year. We'll see how you do. Theadus's patrols might need help, and there's always some out of the way village that has a monster or two to deal with. Nothing Dungeon Zone level, but dangerous all the same.” Istania replied.
She grinned at him, and pushed him toward the swinging half door out toward the arena.
“Get out there and show me you're ready then if you're so eager.” Istania said, her voice a challenge to match his eyes, but her own gaze was soft and worried like that of a mother.
“Go get 'em Ivan. Show that Hero what real Jobs can do!” Tanya said, practically bouncing on her toes beside the Goddess.
The crowd ignited into a furious gale of sound. Handmade banners and ribbons tied on short sticks waved in the air. Small boys waved clacking noise makers and others still had little brass bells. It was a joyous chorus that played over them both as the fighters took the field.
Ivan eyed the Hero of Light. He was taller than Ivan, but he looked wiry even in armor. He was wearing a great deal of armor as he had in matches before that Ivan had watched. Mostly it was finely wrought platemail with a golden finish. Nothing like Ivan's own gear which could be found and adjusted for each person who wore it. The Hero's gear had been made just for him.
Ivan lifted the sword and shield in his hands, stretching the muscles of his arms and hands as he did, and then moving onto his shoulders. His usual pre-match and training warm up, but the crowd had recognized it last year. They had seen what Ivan had made himself into. The lengths at which he had gone to master not only one path of martial ability, but first two and on into their second tiers. For those lacking cleverness, or even just the misfortune of the ill-advised, one might think it impossible to raise the skills and job levels of two classes so similar as Knight and Fighter, but Ivan had. Technique was key, where and how one fought, what they wore as armor, as well as with what weapon, and whether or not it was upon horseback.
Through his job skills Ivan was able to fight competently and use various martial and other skills with any weapon, even if it were just a fallen branch. He could use his martial job attack skills with any of them, using his Warrior's level 3 skill Adaptive Fighting, and he could back that with Squire's 'Ease the Workload' Skill gained at level 4 that worked to reduce mana and stamina costs of all sorts of skills. Mostly it carried well into the Knight class with its large array of martial skills, but its effects were known by many paladin orders to be useful in reducing the large mana costs of their spells. That further combined its effects with 'Conditioning' which could be earned in the Knight tree, but was more often seen when a Barbarian gained a second martial class after learning to read.
Ivan's combination of stamina reduction passive skills made it so that he was an absolute terror to face, and never seemed to tire no matter how many costly martial skills he brought about. The dedication to training it took to reach his level and gain those skills was not a small thing. It showed itself in that first year of fighting in the tournament. Now in his second year, and stronger besides with a third combat job under his belt Ivan was even more intimidating to those with a wary eye on the competition.
Thomas was no slouch however. Hero granted him many bonuses, including damage resistances that kept him from being stunned by certain martial skills like Pommel Strike from the fighter tree, and Shield Bash from Knight. Likely Ivan would have to pair them or overlap them to overcome the 'Hero's Resistance' Skill. That would be a costly expenditure of stamina to buy just a moment or two scoring points, but it would probably work.
His best option by far was to win out each round by scoring the most points against the Hero. If Ivan was good with his shield and used his greater stamina reserves and lighter armor to keep out of the Hero's effective range he might be able to do that. But that wasn't really how Ivan fought. His strength was taking things head on. He could draw out the match and win three of five rounds much like he might have against Bosco, but for some reason now that felt hollow. He had beat Bosco, overwhelmed him and made him surrender the match.
He would do the same with the Hero, and instead of saving himself for later matches he would beat Thomas Daal into the ground in the first match.
Ivan kicked out his feet wiggling them and his shoulders to get himself loose. The crowd liked that and roared, overwhelming the announcers magic for a time, and delaying the match. It didn't stem their enthusiasm however.
Up in the second level viewing box now with a plain red headed woman Tanya was yelling at him, her voice and words blurred into the pressing roar of voices. He knew she was there however just by the sound even if he couldn't make out the words, and the plain red head woman smiled and winked at him. The Goddess was hiding herself in plain sight after showing more of her true self down in the little staging room.
A squire ran up between the two of them as the cheering went on. He looked to have been ushered in by one of the officials after the announcer gave up on starting the match by his usual means. The crowd roared all the more as the squire raised a hand toward the Hero.
The Hero raised his sword, as he would have at the announcers ready.
The squire turned to Ivan and raised his hand still holding up the other.
Ivan returned the gesture.
The squire dropped his hands and both young men clashed their sword hilts to their shields signaling the start of the match at once.
The Hero took up a standard guard, and was ready with a thrust. His face was hidden by the visor of his plate helm so Ivan couldn't tell how surprised he was when Ivan used a charge skill that normally required a horse to use as Knight. Adaptive Fighting just really didn't care about those kinds of restrictions, but getting the skill required a certain level of persistence that most people just didn’t have in them.
Their shields met and Ivan caught onto some kind of counter attack skill the Hero used to divert the first blow. His reactions were quick and Ivan had to wonder if it was the Title Job or the man that had that skill. Still Ivan expected the counter.
He pressed instead of going on the defensive. The crowd was like constant thunder in his ears with only the clashing of blade and shield between them being louder.
Ivan used 'Overpower' a Level 5 fighter martial skill that broke through all blocks, parry's and counterattacks as long as Ivan's strength beat who he used it on, but as he had decided before he didn't use the skill on its own. Battering Ram came with it, carrying on its tails the enhanced moments of strength the martial skill used not only to reinforce the users body, but to make the skill more useful than just beating the door down in a mundane fashion.
That managed to blow open the counterattack. The Hero staggered, and would have been stunned but for his resistance skill. Even then Ivan didn't hold back. Shield Slam followed by blowing open his guard and then Pommel Strike as Ivan carried the momentum of his martial skill charge. His blow took the Hero in the head, right in the face plate, and broke through the poise of his fighting stance with the temporary strength of Battering Ram behind that blow too.
Ivan struck twice, slashing at the Hero as he fell back, scoring two points as his blade found his plate armored torso, and two more for the 'sword strike' to the head Pommel Strike would be counted as. Still Ivan kept on pairing War Stomp with Lance Strike, using again his blunt sword instead of a proper spear or lance for the skill. Even then Ivan had made himself ready for what came next.
The Hero used some sort of Vengeance skill, absorbing the damage he had taken over the last several seconds and turning it back on his attacker. Ivan's 'Shield Strike Counter' from the Fighter Job turned that back again with a move that looked just like Shield Slam. That landed but the Hero managed to disengage at the proper moment mitigating most of the damage by avoiding it; and that movement was only made available again by his Hero's Resistance skill.
He staggered out of range of Ivan for a moment with blood leaking from the mouth of his helmet. Ivan thought for a moment he was going to surrender the match and drop his sword, but the Hero kept on.
He stepped forward engaging at the same moment as Ivan and the clashed blades. Ivan was shocked to see him still standing, but didn't let his guard down. As they met the Hero's sword strikes while no faster gained massive amounts of strength. A passive counter-execute power boosting skill then. Ivan hadn't seen this before in the Hero’s earlier matches.
He used 'Second Wind', the level 8 Fighter skill that had a days long recharge in return for refreshing all of Ivan's spent skills together with a burst of stamina for each unspent skill. It was just in time for Ivan to meet with the Hero's next martial attack and turn that aside back on him with Shield Strike Counter staggering him yet again.
Still the Hero managed to turn Ivan's blade away a number of times as he pressed forward. Each blow that met steel to steel without deflecting was sending violent hand numbing shivers up Ivan's arm, but that was not enough. The Hero hadn't seen Second Wind coming, and was taken by another Shield Slam, and a mundane shield strike just like it that Ivan slapped into his chest before Ivan used Overpower, Battering Ram, and Pommel Strike all at once to cobbler the Hero flat to the ground.
The crowd that had been roaring went quiet as still the Hero tried to rise, but Ivan was already half way through his next War Stomp. The Hero bounced, and Ivan closed, taking his sword in both hands with his shield still strapped to his arm as he kicked the Hero's sword from his hand and dealt two heavy blows onto his back as he tried to roll himself back onto his feet.
Ivan was panting, and barely able to keep to his feet from the incredible backwash of using so much of his stamina at once. Sweat seemed to explode over the padding inside his armor. His heart was beating like a drum in his ears as he watched the Hero try to rise again. In their short exchanges each of the Hero's swings were like parrying a blacksmith's hammer. That had Ivan's hands tingling to the point of numbness even before Ivan had tried to beat the Hero flat into the ground with two great blows of his own. For all the lack of skills to use the Hero wasn't a bad fighter, but mundane sword skills and great strength just wasn't enough to stop Ivan. That and the Hero didn't have a plan or full mastery of what few martial abilities he had. He just fought using that brute strength given to him as part of his Hero job. He just hadn't been ready for Ivan to break from his pattern of dueling his opponent out. Ivan had seen what happened to those who gave the Hero too much time to get going.
The Hero had some skill that just made him better and better at fighting whoever he was up against. Ivan would bet that it would give him advantages against all sorts of monsters and other dangerous things too. The only reasonable thing then was to end the fight quickly; especially once he learned of the counter-execute passive strength power that made the Hero stronger and stronger as he took more damage.
Ivan summoned the strength to kick the Hero over onto his back. The Hero went limply, and Hero' Resistance or not, the Hero had taken serious damage. He was still trying to rise, Ivan caught a glimpse of his eyes through the slots in his helmet, and the man had his eyes on the sky as he fell on his back. According to Ivan's various mentors the Hero had already lost the fight to their judgment. He had lost track of his opponent. Letting that happen in a real fight was to invite death in, just putting oneself on the battlefield was to court her.
“Yield.” Ivan panted as he stepped forward in his stance to put the end of the blunt near to the Hero's neck. “You probably have a concussion. Hero Job or no.” He added after a moment.
The Hero's eyes finally found Ivan again. And they hardly noticed the sword at his throat.
The Hero laid his head back and put a single hand to his chest in a flash of light. Magic used in these fights was normally enough to disqualify a combatant, but in his state no one would blame him for forfeiting that way.
Ivan relaxed his stance and dropped his sword from the man's neck. The crowd lost their collective minds then as they processed the violent first round upset. Some still stayed quiet and Ivan caught concerned glances from the crowd. Many of them were from the Hero of Light's retinue of Army of Light officers, and that of his party. Those hand picked adventurers from all over the world all had advanced jobs tiers beyond what Ivan had at hand, but still they watched him as if he were the threat, and not the one with a level cap of one hundred; ten times what any of Ivan’s current Jobs.
Ivan had been right to not draw it out. He was satisfied in that even if normally he preferred to see as much of the fighting as possible. There was the matter of trying to win after all. If the Hero gained damage while being hurt and exhausted it would only get harder and harder to beat him in later rounds as Ivan lost what reserves he had.
Ivan offered the Hero a hand up all the same.
The Hero thumbed open his helmet and looked like he had just had a drink of water and several minutes to lay out in the grass after a nine mile sprint. Blood decorated his face here and there, he was handsome regardless, but his blue eyes were wide and still shocked as he looked up at Ivan.
“I was going to introduce myself before the match, and tell you not to hold back, but well..” He gestured at the crowd. Even now Ivan was barely able to hear him. “You didn't have any trouble with holding back anything though. For Lord of Light's sake I feel like I was the one to fight the Hero.”
Ivan raised an eyebrow at him and looked at his hand where he held it out still offered.
The Hero of Light reached up and took Ivan's hand; grinning all the while. He stood, a little uneasy for a moment, but then took a deep breath and stood tall and straight.
“My name's Ivan. I've no name other than to say I was raised within the walls of the Great Mother's church. I'm also not the one that took several blows to the head and used a single healing spell to set it right. I can't even use my healing spells on myself. Yet.” Ivan said to the man.
The Hero chuckled.
“My name is Thomas Daal Ivan. Glad to meet you finally. I've heard a lot about you since coming here and learning the ways of the world outside of the Empire. I have to say I like the idea of fighting you again less and less knowing you'll go for the head. Even if it doesn't stun me I still feel like a bell just after lunch time.”
Ivan smirked at the man before dipping down to pick up his blunted blade.
“Shall we?” Ivan asked.
“Ah. Right.” Thomas said, taking the offered handle.
They put their swords into the air and threw an arm over one an other's shoulders in the traditional show of sportsmanship.
“I think I believe them now.” Thomas said to Ivan as the crowd cheered their contest.
Ivan eyed him.
For all that the Hero was older than Ivan, Ivan had still expected the Hero to be a little upset after being defeated so violently in the first round. Yet he genuinely didn't seem the least bit bothered, in fact he looked excited and amused. What a curious man.
“Believe what?” Ivan asked.
“You're going to join me someday. In the City of Lights they said that I was too gentle for Lord of Light's cause. They say almost the same about you here except that everything is reversed. I think you are too much the man of combat to be in Istania's following, and have heard from many that have thought the same. They think we are two sides of a very strange coin, and that you will be the Hero of Istania one day as I have become Hero of Theadus. I pray that we see that some day soon. The world is in much need of healing I think yet I have yet to see the true face of the wars my God fights. I will see them and come again to speak with you, and perhaps even show you some of what I have learned of fighting. Will you teach me then Ivan of Istania? So that I might better understand why it is that I should fight?”
Ivan stared at the man until they came apart and their friends and the tournament officials came forth with prizes and praises to be given and spoken.
With them came a young officer who's face then had not stuck in Ivan's mind, but would forever be there on the edge of his nightmares. The cruel face hidden behind a happy smiling mask.
He was a Knight, and Footman of the Army of Light. His face was plain, and like so many in the City of Lights had blue eyes and blonde hair. His skin was tanned, but not so much as Ivan's or even Tanya's. He wore a tabard with three almost vertical rays of light running the whole of its length. Jen shied and clung to Ivan's side as those from the parish came down to the field to celebrate his victory. And yet for all that he was reliving the memory he couldn't bring his focus away from the distant cold light in the young officer's eyes.
Ivan knew in the proper memory that he thought Jen was just being shy as usual, but now in this twisted vision he saw the cruelty of that man's face as he stood above her corpse. Ivan remembered his fist in Tanya's hair as he tried to drag her along to the rooms behind the altar. His features burned into Ivan's memory.
He fought and killed a cohort of Militia of Light, a dozen men, to get to Tanya. The blitz attack of his rage and desperation to save his family had lent him almost impossible strength. Yet the memory played out so hazily in his mind. All he could see was that man's face. It was burning into him.
He had no name to put to his face or deeds. But he remembered every moment and the sound Tanya made when he ran her through the belly. He didn't know if he was screaming in memory, in a dream, or for real. All he remembered was the rage.