The audience was on edge waiting to hear what kind of fight they were about to witness. Annabelle waited until there was absolute silence before speaking.

“There are no limits to the weapons or abilities that can be used in this match, and as usual, any interference from those not involved in the duel will be met with grave consequences.”

There was some tension-releasing laughter. She said this at the start of every arena fight but had never given so much as a hint about what those consequences might be, and it had become a bit of a joke to threaten people with grave consequences over the smallest things. It was all part of Annabelle’s yoyo crowd control routine. Let them chuckle for a second at the end of the string before tugging on it and snapping them back up into the palm of her hand with the thrills.

“The fight will continue until one side gives up or can no longer fight. This includes,” she paused for dramatic effect, “death.”

This was met with a raucous response from the stands. Annabelle let the fervor rise before expertly bringing it back down, like a maestro conducting an orchestra, and she did through nothing more than by leaning forward and changing her posture into one that implied she was about to reveal a big secret.

“Finally,” Annabelle said in a conspiratorial hush, “the stakes.” Pause, then her tone shifted back from secretive Annabelle to yahello Annabelle. “To be honest, I don’t even know what the stakes are myself yet. They are written here on this card.” She flourished a folded piece of paper which had appeared in her hand as if by magic. The sudden switch broke the spell she had on the crowd and she was rewarded with some nervous laughter. Up, down, up down, the yoyo kept on spinning.

She unfolded the paper and I watched her as her eyes scanned what was written on the card. I watched her scowl at the first part, then go wide with alarm when she read the second part. She lowered the paper and turned to look straight at me. The look on her face was pleading. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she really hadn’t known what the stakes were beforehand.

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered, although it was still being amplified so everyone heard.

The crowd was dying to know what was on that card.

I nodded. She took a deep breath and raised the card to read it aloud. Her tone was matter of fact as she read the first part.

“If Daniel Lamont wins, Flint Vivier will return the items he took from Daniel and all members of the Silver Sword will be banished from the city of Toronto and its environs.” This met with not a little bit of cheering, which caused Flint to glare up at the audience. “Forever,” she added, and the cheers practically doubled in volume and enthusiasm.

“However,” Annabelle continued, changing her tone again into one packed with emotion, “should Daniel lose, then everything he owns will belong to Flint.”

When the crowd heard that there were a lot of gasps, followed by much muttering. They were no doubt wondering if that meant control over my dungeons too. I glanced over at Flint and saw him smirking.

Annabelle waved for quiet again. She had one more thing to add that would push the audience over the edge and really drive them into a frenzy. She may have been a bit of a weirdo, but you had to admit Annabelle sure knew how to work a crowd.

She waited until there was silence again. She stood in the exact center of the arena floor, slowly rotating to take in the entire audience surrounding us.

“And,” she said, “the only way Daniel can lose is through death.” The last word echoed around the arena. Then lowered the paper and looked at me, and it was impossible to tell if she was sad or angry, it could’ve been both. She was one hell of an actor. She had one more line to say.

“With no chance of respawning.”

The place went batshit crazy.

The fight to the death-death part had been Flint’s idea, of course, that's what he'd whispered in my ear. I wasn’t too worried about it, though, I’d been training with the sisters for this precise moment and gained a lot of confidence in my abilities. I also figured Annabelle would probably get on board with the idea because of the drama it would create. The thing that worried me was what Sigrid was going to say to me after it was over. She would not be happy about taking this kind of risk no matter how much I knew that, barring any unforeseen hiccups, there was barely a non-zero chance I’d lose.

Yes. I was that confident. Me. I know, hard to believe.

Annabelle stepped out of the spotlight and moved over to the side. She always stayed on the arena floor with the fighters to act as referee, ostensibly so that she’d be close enough to see if someone tapped out, but also so she could immediately step in if things went off kilter.

That left Flint and I facing each other.

He was looking tall and resplendent in his usual bulky armor. His enormous sword was slung on his back but it didn’t seem like he was planning to use it. Instead, he was spinning my elven knife in his hand, showing off his prowess with flashy little tricks.

I was not wearing my usual armored coat. I’d chosen this moment to introduce my new look. Akari had been the one to design it, while Annabelle and I had artificed it up.

At first I’d balked at the design because it was quite tight-fitting and I’d never worn anything like that before, but Akari insisted it was the right choice because it showed off the well-toned physique Sigrid and I had worked so hard to create. I’d also never been good at saying no to attractive women, especially when they were complimenting me, so I relented.

The black boots were made of bumpy Wyvern skin, a notoriously tough crafting material. They went up above mid-calf, with mithril buckles up the sides. The pants were a more supple black leather made from the hide of the Cretan Bull, a monster from the labyrinth. In mythology, it was the same bull that had been the father of the Minotaur (remember Daedalus’ wooden cow?) and that had later terrorized around Greece until Hercules subdued it as his eighth task. So yeah, one tough hombre. The pants were tailor-made to fit exactly and I was still getting used to the snugness.

I had a newfound respect for yoga pants and the people who wear them.

Up top, I wore a shirt made of cloth woven from silk threads spun by a particularly terrifying type of giant spider that Akari had captured somewhere and kept as a pet just so she could harvest its thread. Again, very tough fabric, but surprisingly comfortable and it breathed well while also being both fire and water resistant. The silk hadn’t been dyed and retained its natural white color with a subtle silvery sheen. It too was tailored to fit and accented by mithril buttons and cufflinks.

Over this, I wore more black Cretan Bull leather in the form of a fitted vest that scooped low in the front and was fastened by two rows of more mithril buttons. I wasn’t sure about the vest at first, but Akari insisted upon it, claiming that the extra protection it offered to my vital organs was important. It felt a bit too steampunk for the milieu, but she said she liked how it looked and I caved again.

There was also a voluminous black cape that went with it, but I left that in my inventory. It looked like the sort of thing a crown prince would wear jauntily tossed over one shoulder, with a high, stiff collar and an inner lining made of spider silk that had been dyed a muted silver color, and clasped at the throat by, you guessed it, a mithril clip.

I was even less sure about the cape than the vest, even though Akari had waxed on about the extra protection it provided and even trained me how to fight while wearing it, and Annabelle had crafted an utterly unnecessary Air-based power into it that could create and manipulate a breeze that made the cape swirl and flutter around me.

The piece de resistance to the outfit were the black leather gloves that stopped at the first knuckle of each finger, into which Annabelle and I built retractable spikes for punching and retractable claws for slashing. As for the other enchantments Annabelle and I had placed upon my clothing, let’s just say we made it more protective than Flint’s snazzy armor, considerably so.

Last but not least, my new knives were sheathed at my thighs, elven style. I’d thrown a few extra powers onto them and had been training hard with Akari on how to use them to full effect in combination with other abilities. They were still in their sheaths, though. I stood there in the arena like a Sheriff waiting to draw on an outlaw, even though with all the black I wore I looked more like a villain than the hero.

Annabelle looked nervous as she raised her hand and looked at Flint, then at me, asking if we were ready. Once we both agreed, she lowered her hand and shouted, “Fight!”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The first thing I did was trigger a few powers. I used Holtzmann Effect to raise my personal shield, taking comfort from the bleach-like scent of ozone it gave off. It created a distinctive shimmer around me and I didn’t want people to know about it yet, so at the same time I also put up affinity armor using a combination of Fire, Light, and Air to shroud myself with more visible and impressive-looking scintillating shroud of glowing hot plasma.

I used I’m Going To Buff (Clap) You Up and My Body Is A Finely Honed Weapon on myself to boost my physical attributes, attack power, and defense, and used Curse You and You’re Not All That on him to lower his. I also slapped onto him a new power I’d made with Annabelle called Life Or Death which reduced an opponent’s resistance to affinity effects; it was so-named because it required the user to have one of those affinities to use it.

I had already applied Let’s Keep A Clear Head About This the moment I saw Flint waiting by the arena entrance, in case he tried to use his commanding aura on me before the fight began. It had honestly surprised me when he hadn’t tried anything underhanded before the match started. He didn’t think he had to, I supposed.

We didn’t race forward to clash immediately. There was posturing to be done first.

Flint began by making a show of stretching. He reeked of confidence, slowly going through the motions and showing no sign that he’d just entered a fight to the death. I stood, relaxed, patiently waiting. I was silently doing some breathing exercises Akari had taught me to center my qi and put me in the fighting frame of mind.

When he was done posing he called out to me. “Hey you. Pipsqueak. Do me a favor and wait there for me to come give you a public beating before you die: don’t move.”

The last words had the impact of his commanding aura behind them. I froze.

“Uh oh,” I said. Annabelle let the arena amplify our voices, so everyone heard it.

Flint chuckled as he slowly sauntered over to me, cleaning imaginary dirt from under a fingernail with the tip of the knife. My knife. He’d want to be careful with that or he’d easily end up losing the tip of his finger.

“I’ll give you this much,” he said, “you’ve got guts. It’s a shame you’re so fucking stupid.”

I didn’t say anything back, I just stood perfectly still and watched him approach. I shut out the sounds from the crowd, ignoring the shouts and cheers and catcalls and jeers.

“I hope you’ve got a lot of money,” he said after closing about half the distance between us. “As satisfying as it will be to kill you, I’m more interested in the loot.”

I remained silent and just continued to watch him get ever closer, my eyes never once looking away.

“Nothing to say, hmm? You were always such a mouthy brat before, but I suppose there really isn’t much to say, is there? In about five seconds I’m going to be there, and after that I give you maybe two or three more before your life is over. Forever.”

I still didn’t say anything. My eyes were looking at his, but my attention was actually split between his eyes and his knife, wary of any sign of an attack, but he merely kept strutting toward me. A few more steps and he was in front of me, within striking distance. He stood there, totally relaxed, not a care in the world.

“Really?” he said. “No final words? This is your last chance.”

I said nothing.

Flint cackled. “Have it your way.”

He held the knife low, sneering into my face as he thrust it forward into my gut. Except I wasn’t there when he did it. The knife cut nothing but air and Flint stumbled forward completely off balance.

Here’s the thing. I had been an idiot to fight him on his own terms before. Freaking stupid. I beat myself up about that for a long time afterward. Why did I only use omni-do against him last time? And bare-handed at that. I had other weapons, other abilities. Then I discovered a hidden side effect of Flint’s commanding aura, that it continues to cloud the brain for a while, and I stopped blaming myself. I’d been so focused on losing my knives that in my mental fog all I could think about was using omni-do without them.

Not this time. My head was clear, and I was not the same person I was then. I had more powers this time, and better gear, and I’d done a lot of training with genuine pros.

So yeah, I could’ve ended things right there when he made his lazy attack. Heck, I could’ve ended it when Flint was still stretching and monologuing. The sisters and I had planned and practiced a dozen different ways to finish Flint in under two seconds. They hinged on two things. The first was using Andy’s awesome power nullification ability to prevent him from ignoring my attacks. That’s why I was happy when my other power had blocked his commanding aura back in the tavern, because not being affected by that aura was the second thing.

It wouldn’t have been a big deal if I’d had to use nullification on his aura power, though. It would’ve just taken a few extra seconds to wear down his mana and finish him off, that’s all.

But where would be the fun in that?

So I let him think I was controlled by his power. The whole time he was sauntering up to me and continuing his diatribe I was thinking about which of the power combos I’d use against him. The question was not who would win this fight, that was a foregone conclusion, but rather how it would happen, and how long it would take.

You’ve probably already guessed I used superspeed to avoid his attack. I still wasn’t quite ready to reveal all my tricks, so I was using visible powers that were familiar, and superspeed was nothing new to any Player. Lucas had used it to nearly win the Player’s Tournament, and he might have if Andy hadn’t slammed the brakes on his killing spree by nullifying it. There were also at least five Players who were given the superspeed power from the start in one form or another, including Kay. Everyone had seen it, so it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if they saw me use it now.

Of course, my custom version of it was more than your average superspeed, I’d also baked into it the optional ability to make my body insubstantial enough to phase through solid objects. If I wanted to, I could run right through Flint and the arena and escape the fight before anybody knew what had happened. Not that I wanted to, but it was an option.

Right after he said “have it your way,” I had triggered superspeed just enough to switch everything to slow motion for me. I hadn’t moved yet, though. I waited until the instant I saw a shift in the tension in his muscles indicating he was about to make his attack, Akari taught me that too. I still wasn’t great at seeing it at normal speed, but when everything was in slow motion it was a piece of cake.

When I moved, I didn’t use superspeed at full strength. The sisters had taught me how to control my mana flow with such precision I could adjust a power’s effect or impact. So I only applied a bit of its power to augment my movement, just enough to allow me to easily avoid the attack using an aikido maneuver to sidestep away. Then I gave him a little push on his back to send him stumbling forward after he missed, but not too fast that anyone watching closely would be able to see me do it. And everybody was watching closely.

I switched off superspeed and turned around in time to see him barely manage to recover his balance before nearly sprawling face first onto the packed dirt floor. Darn it, I was hoping he’d fall. That would’ve been sweet.

He turned around and eyed me warily. “Does this mean it’s going to be a real fight after all?” he said.

“That depends,” I said. “Think you can keep up with me?”

He approached me again, shifting the knife back and forth between his hands like he was gonna surprise me with which hand the attack would come from. Puh-leez. With superspeed slo-mo back on I waited for his attack — a low slash — before moving again, using the appropriate augmented aikido dodge to avoid it.

This time I didn’t give him a push, I gave him a swift kick in the butt instead. He lurched forward, stumbling again, but still managed to stay on his feet. Darn it! Just fall, already.

I still hadn’t drawn my own knives.

We went through the dance one more time. He approached, I waited, and when he attacked I avoided it again. This time I didn’t push or kick him, but wrested the knife from his hand and took it. Then I used one quick burst of superspeed to move away from him, over to the spot where he’d started the fight, before dropping the power.

“Hey Flart,” I said, holding up the knife I’d taken. “Lose something?”

Yes, I was toying with him. No, I did not feel at all bad about it. To his credit, he only looked confused for a second, then a wide grin spread across his face.

“So you are gonna make this interesting after all,” he said. “Been a while since I had a decent fight.”

The knife disappeared from my hand as I sent it into my inventory. I stood there, empty handed, and made the classic taunting move of holding my hand out and beckoning with my fingers for him to come at me.

He drew his huge sword. It was a truly massive thing, close to five feet in length and at least a foot wide. The sort of ridiculous weapon that would never exist in a regular world, but which you see all the time in manga and anime. He held it in one hand, an impressive feat considering how ginormous, awkward, and heavy it must have been.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, giving it a few practice swings. Even the whoosh of the blade through the air was amplified for the crowd.

He started to move toward me but I knew I wouldn’t have to wait for him to get close before he attacked. As expected, he used his I Can Still Hit You Way Over There power to make a ranged sword attack. Still holding his sword in one hand, he swept the giant blade in front of him and sent a sort of sharp shock wave at me, but again I wasn’t there for it to hit me. I’d already blinked beside him. When his hand reached the end of its swing I was there, waiting for it. Before he knew it, I’d taken the sword from him as well. Then I blinked back to where I was.

“What the hell?” he said when he saw me standing there, unharmed, holding his weapon again.

“Kind of annoying when someone takes your stuff, huh?” I said.

I was also holding his sword in only one hand. It really was an unwieldy thing, far too heavy, and even with its thick long handle the balance was way off. A normal person couldn’t hope to use it, and it was only because of how exceedingly strong I’d become that I could make it look as light as a willow switch as I swung it once, one-handed. Whoosh.

“You little...” he growled, but he didn’t come closer. He was out of weapons, and I knew he didn’t have any unarmed combat skills. He must have been thinking the same thing. It was a sign of how cocky he was that he hadn’t felt the need to bring more weapons.

“What’s wrong? Do you want this back?” I said, waving the sword. “Here, take it.”

Then I tossed the sword and it flew at him, tumbling end over end through the air. It was most gratifying to see him flinch before its tip embedded itself in the dirt floor between his feet.

“How about we have a real fight now, huh?” I said.