The others rushed towards Marcel. Half a dozen people surrounded him and spoke in excited tones, but their voices were distant. He felt somewhat out of sorts, the reality of what he had just done not having settled in yet. His ears still rang. His back hurt in a strange way. And there was a mix of blood and eyeball liquid all over his body.

Will snapped in front of his face.

“Marcel, Marcel!” He said. “Are you there?”

“Uhh, yes,” Will’s voice had finally cut through the bubble he felt in.

“That was probably the coolest thing I have ever seen!” Will smiled in barely contained excitement.

Only now did Marcel also take in what the people around him said. They were congratulating him, cheering him. He saw the man he had pushed out of the way before, he gave him a nod.

“That,” Messy stepped up to him. “Was the most foolish thing I have ever seen someone do.”

Marcel paused.

“But it was also one of the bravest things.” She couldn’t contain her own smile anymore.

A weight Marcel hadn’t known he carried suddenly fell from his shoulders. He felt light, and together with the realization a wave of joy swept over him.

He had really just jumped on the head of a giant ogre and defeated it. A ten meter tall colloss full of death and bad intentions and he had climbed on top of it.

Marcel knew he had done good before. He had helped a lot of people, had almost single handedly eradicated the rat problem of the city, and had even managed to kill the murderous centaur.

But still, now looking in the eyes of all the other adventurers around him, Marcel for the first time felt like a real adventurer himself.

“What did you think you were doing?” The golden armored man strode over to him.

For a moment Marcel thought he would get a reprimand for his carelessness and a pat on the back. Then he saw the barely constrained anger in the man’s eyes. Anger that the man directed at him along his sneering nose.

“What do you think gives you the right to steal the kill’s experience?”

“Kill, steal?” Marcel said, tasting the words on his tongue. “Are you serious?”

“This experience belonged to me and my party. Crashing the contract of another party is grounds for suspension!” His voice became shrill now.

“Crashing the contract?” Marcel repeated again.

“Are you daft? This quest was supposed to be taking me to the second stage. A privilege that my father paid the guild and these people dearly for. A chance that you and you have blatantly stolen.”

Marcel frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what a huge chance this was supposed to be for you. I guess seeing the way that you didn’t even participate at all, I thought you were just an observer here.”

“Because you have no eye for tactics, nor an idea of greatness!” The man stamped on the floor. “What you did is utterly unjust and I demand an apology.”

“As you wish,” Marcel faked a bow. “I apologize for taking the kill of your highness, but maybe next time your eminance would have more luck just taking part in the actual fucking fight instead of watching his people die like the mad pig that he is.”

The adventurers drew in their breath. Marcel knew he was maybe pushing it a little far, but rage had taken hold of him.

The aristocrats' faces were clouded. “Are you mocking me? How do you dare? I will talk to the guild and you will receive a permanent prohibition.” The man extended his hand. “Further I demand you transfer me one of your skills.”

“What?” Marcel snorted.

“It is your last chance,” a smile crept onto the man’s face. “You can hand me over one of your skills, and we forget the whole thing. You will still pay the usual fine to my father’s estates, but we can stop the whole part where I complain to the guild about you. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise we can also settle matters in a duel here.”

“Please don’t be ridiculous,” Marcel said.

A duel? How barbaric would that be? Besides, he couldn’t see any reason why that guy wanted to fight him, he hadn’t even dirtied his hands in the real fight that had taken place only a few moments ago.

“I give you a few seconds to reconsider-”

“Please Marcel,” Messy pulled him to the side. “Don’t fall for that, you have to be care-”

A slap across the cheek silenced her.

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“Did I ask you to inject yourself, woman?” The man spat.

Then hell broke loose. Before Marcel or Messy could even react to what had just happened, Will threw himself towards the man. Out of reflex one of the other warriors held him back, but only barely. Luckily Will hadn’t made good on his promise to put some points into strength yet, instead he was trapped to hurling insults around. The aristocrat ignored him though.

“Learn to mind your betters,” he said absentmindedly.

Things rattled slowly in Marcel’s brain and it took him a few seconds to catch up. When he did, and the fact of what had just happened settled in, a guttural rage swelled up inside of him.

Marcel heightened his trident and pointed it at the man. “You want to duel? Let’s duel then you piece of scum.”

“Finally,” a broad smile broke out on the man’s face.

“Marcel, you shouldn’t,” Will suddenly stood by his side.

Marcel shrugged. “It’s too late now.”

Will looked pleadingly between Marcel and Messy, but Messy was still too out of sorts for anything. The rest of the adventurers drew them to the sides as they cleared some space for Marcel and their leader in the middle.

The man slowly withdrew his giantly oversized sword from his back. A golden glowing shield appeared on his left forearm. He cracked his neck to the left, and then to the right, all the while not breaking eye contact with Marcel.

He meant to be menacing, Marcel could see that. He had dealt with bullies all his life. They usually barked harder than they bit.

Although in all fairness the typical biting that Marcel’s bullies had done to him had still been enough for him. That was a different time though, a different world even. It didn’t matter that the guy was almost breaking through to the second stage. He had hurt one of Marcel’s friends, and he would make him pay for it.

The fight began with a quick flurry. They both met in the middle of their small clearing, the metal of their weapons clinging against each other. The man blocked Marcel’s quick trident strikes, and Marcel in turn deflected or evaded the swings of his sword.

They were probing each other. Testing the other and seeing where their strengths and capabilities lay. Marcel was surprised by the man’s methodical approach and calm restraint.

‘You learn everything you need to know about a man by crossing your blade with his.” Marcel had read that somewhere. Or thought he had read that somewhere. Up until now he had always put that away as some eastern philosophy bullshit from the Art of War or something like that. But now he was for the first time realizing the meaning of it.

The man was much more measured than he had let on. Much more calculated and dangerous. Marcel could feel that in his moves.

He pushed his [Spear Mastery'] to the limits, once again thankful it extended to his trident. He feinted low, but redirected his attack at the last minute and managed to score a shallow cut on the man’s shoulder, just in time before he had brought up his shield.

The man raised an eyebrow, but Marcel didn’t wait. He activated “Thrust” and pierced straight towards the man’s open torso in front of him. Every point he had ever spent at strength went into that attack. His trident surged towards the man’s abdomen like sure death.

The man intercepted with his sword, throwing his attack into the ground like it was nothing. Then in one smooth motion he bashed his shield into Marcel’s face and sent him stumbling backwards.

Marcel’s head was spinning, and he barely had time to wonder what incredible strength that man must have before he was upon him again. Now the man flared his aura fully and it was like someone hit Marcel with a brick. The man’s aura burned with uncontained force.

Suddenly Marcel was on the defensive. His “Heightening” and “Water Boost” skills were running over time as he struggled to keep up with the man’s speed. He dodged underneath the giant piece of metal, missing him by only half an inch, only to find a knee connecting with his shoulder. He took the brunt force of it and managed to evade the next slash coming down just where his head was.

Marcel was only a match for his speed with his skills, but even then, the man’s strength just far surpassed his own. Everytime Marcel made the mistake of trying to deflect he paid for it dearly with pain reverraing through his forearms. He only managed to stay in the fight as long as he did because of his [Aqua Restoration]' skill, but now the man was becoming more serious.

He had held off of it until now, but now Marcel found himself forced to activate his [Water Tentacle'] skill. It would chew through his mana quickly. But Marcel needed something to turn the tide.

Four arms of water sprang up on his back, courtesy to the skill level up he had gotten after fighting the centaur. The familiar feeling of presence on his back greeted him.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise for a brief second, but then continued his brute advance. His techniques were simple, crude even, but they were backed by undeniable skill and strength.

Each of his swings threatened to shatter through Marcel’s defenses, forcing him back. Up until now he hadn’t been able to even think about countering much as the man had started his advance. Luckily he didn’t need to now, his tentacles did that for him.

Marcel sidestepped a heavy swing. Two of his tentacles slashed out towards the man’s face. They were blocked by a shield. The other two sharp arms of water went straight towards the man’s legs. They landed cuts and elicited a response.

Marcel followed up with a [Thrust]. The man’s shield blocked it, but the tentacles went around it. His mana wouldn’t last much longer, so Marcel would have to go all out now. He weaved his attacks together into a net of danger. For every attack from his trident, the water tentacles attacked from at least two different angels. Every movement of his forced the man backwards. Marcel bobbed and weaved. He pivoted around an attack, and edged the man away. He felt entranced now, lost to the rhythm of the fight.

His attacks only inflicted shallow wounds, mostly not even passing the armor. But it was the man’s demeanor that was changed. Now on the backfoot he seemed to have lost his bravado. His powerful aura had been reduced to a candle.

The man took a wrong step, putting too much weight onto his right, injured leg, and stumbled. He fell to the dust with a heavy thud. Marcel stood over him, panting and sweating. Almost out of mana.

But it were the three spikes of his trident that were resting on the man’s neck that signaled the end of the fight.

“Yield.”

A mix of emotions went over the man’s face. Disbelief, confusion, anger. But no resignation. He pointed his hand towards Marcel and his ring started glowing bright like a star.

Marcel wasn’t sure what happened next. An aura more powerful than anything he had felt before exploded right in front of him. His soul was carved layer by layer and he was flung back violently.

Suddenly he was the one laying in the dirt. There was an intense pain inside of him. It wasn’t anything he could really pinpoint. like a burn inside of him. Black dots danced in his vision.

He saw the man raise his giant sword over his head. Then blackness took over for Marcel.