Chapter 16 - Adept Division
Warning: Violent Chapter
7 September 2041 (Real Time) - Institute of Blades, Second Reality
"Ladies! And! Gentlemen!" boomed the announcer on the microphone. "Today is the day you have all been waiting for! Welcome to day one of the Sword Arts Tournament!"
LOUD CHEERING
“For the duration of this tournament, I, Steel Flynn will be your host and announcer!”
“I’d like to remind everyone that this year is different from past tournaments. This year, here in Second Reality, we will be able to use real blades - that’s right, you’ll bleed - to allow our contestants to experience real combat! MediVance has provided us with healing pods, so whether you die or fall incapacitated, we can fix you right up!” continued Flynn.
LOUD CHEERING
People crowded the fields and the environment was electrifying. As this was the first time in known history that real blades have replaced the usual tournament style swords, the crowd was even wilder with expectations.
The Sword Arts Tournament was a symbolic festival. The Institute of Blades profited on this yearly event that showcased the best and brightest of blademasters. It wasn't public knowledge that those who had reached the level of at least a peak stage Master practitioner had received opportunities to work overseas as contracted mercenaries or private bodyguards.
These hires, although very few in number were paid ridiculous salaries, 90% of which the Institute retained. Through this practice the territory under the Institute thrived as currency is circulated via stipend to students who then spend in the local market.
Since such lucrative opportunities present itself only to the top blademasters, the event garners territory wide attention. At present, there are 5,000 students, civilians and teachers logged into Second Reality. The remaining masses occupying the fields are avatars numbering upwards of 30,000.
"In this tournament, the following fight brackets are as follows!" gestured Flynn.
DRUMS BLARING
A holographic display appeared above the stage. This was but a small perk of having MediVance as a partner. They too were interested in the tournament and its outcome. Perhaps they may even hire the winners of each category which would be a profitable return for the Institute.
Total Participants = 448
Adept Blademasters256Master Blademasters128Grandmaster Blademasters64
"This year we have 448 blademasters participating in the fights to reach the top! Let’s give it up for the Adept division!" shouted Flynn.
CRAZY NONSENSICAL CHEERING
Steel Flynn was one of the teachers in the Institute. There are five referees, one for each stage and each one was a teacher at the peak stage Grandmaster level. The remaining teachers are paired with two students and their role is to patrol the area for trouble.
"The format will be a single elimination match. The match will end when one of these conditions are fulfilled." said Flynn as the holographic display switched to show the conditions for a match to end.
CONDITIONSMatch will end if one participant gets knocked out of the ring
Match will end if one participant surrenders
Match will end if one participant is too incapacitated to continue
Match will end if one participant dies
"Participants, please wait for your name to be announced and proceed to the appointed stage within 10-minutes. Failure to appear within the allotted time will be an automatic loss." said the announcer.
**********
Hunter, Arron, Darell, Corbin, Gilman and Foxwell were all at the first floor of the main building, looking out of the window and observing. With five stages available for use, the matches have been progressing at a steady pace.
"Are you guys ready for your turn?" asked Hunter.
Aside from Darell, the rest had mixed responses. "I'm ready big bro. Can't touch this." said Darell as his thumb pointed at his chest.
"Before you guys step onto that stage, just remember what you excel at and use it to the best of your ability. If you go all out from the beginning and you still lose, that's okay. Learning your limits is part of growing. It would be good to meditate straight after that." advised Hunter.
An hour later, Arron's name boomed through the speakers.
"Attention. Arron Markell and Yuki Zephyr. Please proceed to Stage 1. I repeat. Arron Markell and Yuki Zephyr to Stage 1." said Flynn.
As Arron made his way down to Stage 1, Hunter asked the others "Is Yuki any good?"
"She's the same class as us bro. She's faster than Arron, but not as fast as Darell. Where Arron can be calculating, Yuki is easy to provoke so he might be able to exploit that." explained Corbin.
Down in the field near Stage 1, two hooded figures stared at the combatants with intense scrutiny. "Do you think she'll give him a run for his money?" asked Lashell.
"Hmm. As long as Arron doesn't lose his cool and follow Yuki's tempo, then he will be fine." said Darron.
The two had arrived back in the academy from their wilderness training just in time for the tournament. They had decided to remain anonymous as they didn't want to break Arron and Darell's concentration.
"Match, START!" shouted the announcer.
Arron and Yuki circled each other. "Hey Arron, how about you give me this win and I'll guarantee to make you feel good later tonight?" smiled Yuki.
"Tempting as that may sound, I wouldn't hear the end of it if I gave a match away." replied Arron.
"Aw come on. Last chance to get a cookie!" said Yuki as she licked her lips. Yuki was not a bad looking girl. She was 16 years old but the way that she developed would make someone think she was 19.
Arron smirked. "I'm sure there will be a lot of cookies as the tournament progresses."
Yuki said no more. Her eyes turned cold and she pushed off the ground to close the distance.
BANG!
The two of them danced through their forms. Yuki incorporated forms based on unarmed combat, utilizing kicks, elbows and knees as she hacked and slashed at Arron. Arron kept his distance, shuffling his feet and keeping Yuki at bay.
He feinted a retreat and Yuki fell for it. She dashed forward in an attempt to chase him but Arron had already rolled under her sword arm, spinning past her and behind before slashing her legs. The swords were no joke. It sliced clean through the bone and both of Yuki's legs below the knee fell off in mid leap.
Yuki screamed in midair as she lost her legs and she fell onto the stage in agony. She could no longer concentrate on anything but the pain and the sight of her legs some distance away made it all the more gruesome.
"Winner Arron Markell! Yuki Zephyr is unable to continue. MEDIC STAGE 1!" shouted Flynn.
CRAZY NONSENSICAL CHEERING
Arron's heart was thundering in his chest. As he walked away from the stage back to the main building, Yuki's pained screams followed him. The adrenaline kept him steady but as it drained away, he started shaking. The sensation of the blade cutting through her legs. The disbelief in her eyes as she saw the stumps. The pink and red muscle and glistening bone. All the blood on the stage.
Arron vomited.
"He did well, didn't he honey?" asked Lashell.
"It's only been 7-months since they started training. For him to have come this far is exemplary." said Darron. “If only Hunter was here. Sigh.”
**********
Arron was pale and sweating by the time he regrouped with Hunter and his friends. Hunter understood the feeling and gave Arron some sweets and a cold drink.
"Eat and drink this. It'll help a bit." he said, sympathetic to his brother's condition. Arron gained some colour back but he remained silent, observing the stages. Finally noticing that Corbin and Foxwell are missing, he asked.
"Where are those two?"
"Corbin and Foxwell? They're over at Stage 5. They got called in shortly after you and Yuki started to exchange blows." said Gilman.
"Attention. Darell Markell & Chet Smith. Please head to Stage 3. I repeat. Darell Markell & Chet Smith to Stage 3." came the announcement.
"Good luck bro." they said in unison.
"It'll just be like practice you know, since Chet is usually my practice partner." smiled Darell.
"Oh! Dear did you hear that, let's go to Stage 3. I want to see my baby in action." said Lashell, as she dragged Darron to the center most stage.
Darell made his way up the steps of the stage. It was a good 5 feet high up. He felt invigorated by the cheering crowd and flapping banners. It felt like he was a gladiator in a coliseum.
"I can't believe that even here I have to face off with you.." spat Chet. "Come on then Darell, let's get this over with."
"Match, START!" boomed Flynn.
Chet wasted no time. He knew that Darell was the fastest among Drayton's class. The only way for him to have a chance is to limit the space Darell can use his footwork in, so he closed the distance.
SHUA SHUA
By the time Chet closed the distance, Darell was ready for him.
BANG!
Their swords clashed as the two met mid lunge. Darell staggered back from the blow. His physical strength was well below Chet's, but he met the attack head on to give him room to maneuver.
'Clever little shit.' thought Chet.
Darell utilized his footwork, his feet almost becoming a blur as he circled around Chet, darting in and out to strike. Chet managed to block some of the attacks but was unable to keep up with Darell's speed.
'Judging from the direction he is moving at, I can guess his next move.' thought Chet. Darell was too confident with his speed that he thought he could solely rely on it to control the flow of battle. While that can be true, the same tactic won't always work if one’s opponent is already clued in to one’s abilities.
Chet made use of the regular pattern in Darell's footwork. He endured the hits, avoiding and blocking any fatal blows.
'Now!' he shouted to himself.
Chet lunged at an open space, his timing perfect. By the time his blade reached the then empty spot, Darell had run into the path of the sword, unable to shift directions. Chet's sword left a cut half a blade’s width deep on Darell's arm, which should have been a fatal blow had Darell not been able to deflect the strike away from his chest.
Unbelievable pain blossomed, his arm growing numb.
"Aaagggghhhhh!" screamed Darell.
On the first floor, Hunter had to restrain Arron from running down to Stage 3. Out in the field, Darron was calming Lashell down who was all but frothing in the mouth to tear Chet apart.
"What's the matter Darell? Is this all you've got?" sneered Chet. Swallowing his sobs, Darell increased the distance between himself and Chet.
'Get it together Darell. Big bro said focus on what you're good at. You're good at speed. So what now....' he thought, racking his brains for ideas.
'Okay okay. Chet knows everything about me since we always sparred together.' an idea had formed and he wanted to try.
Closing the distance using his speed, Chet thought that Darell had lost his wits. 'He's still trying the same old thing?'
Chet was wrong. As soon as the distance was close enough, Darell slid on the ground the rest of the way before changing his motion into a spin, sword slicing into Chet's hamstring.
'What the fuck was that?' Chet screamed inside. "Aaaggghhhhh! Fucking bitch!". The cut forced Chet to his knees, his legs shaking.
Darell disappeared into his blind spot. As he turned, Darell dove forward past Chet and behind him before swinging the blade up. He was rewarded with a scream as the sword bit off a chunk of Chet's back.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"Aaaggghhhhh!” screamed Chet before he fell on the stage in his death throes.
"Dude, did he just..." asked Gilman.
"Yeah. Smart bro. He used my move." said Arron. "Good decision to copy someone else when the one you're fighting knows you so well."
"Winner! Darell Markell! Chet Smith is unable to continue. MEDIC STAGE 3!" shouted the announcer.
CRAZY NONSENSICAL CHEERING
Darell looked at the fallen figure of his classmate, the pink and red muscle glistening in the sunlight. There were layers of yellow grainy substances around his waist which jiggled as Chet’s body twitched.
He too, couldn’t take the gruesomeness. Darell vomited on the stage.
**********
Foxwell won the first round elimination against Corbin and managed to fight his way through to the 4th round. Corbin had recovered at the medical bay, where MediVance has provided healing pods. These pods will restore the user within a few minutes, depending on the extent of their injuries.
The first single elimination round took almost six hours to reduce the number of Adepts from 256 to 128. It took a further three and a half hours to reduce the number of contestants to 64 and another ninety minutes to reduce the number to 32. It was now late in the afternoon and the festivities have reached it's peak.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! We are now down to 32 contestants in the Adept division. 16 matches will take place across these five stages. You can expect the competition to grow hotter as we narrow down the 8 contestants that will move into the quarter finals!" said Flynn.
Steel Flynn called out the names for the first five matches. Two of those names were Armand Foxwell and Ward Gilman
"Armand Foxwell. Alec Rosek. Please head to Stage 4."
"Ward Gilman. Jonas Catlow. Please head to Stage 5."
"Foxwell be careful of Alec Rosek. If I'm not mistaken his dad is Newton Rosek and he is supposed to be an experienced Master blademaster." said Corbin. Foxwell nodded his thanks as he left for the stage, Gilman close behind.
"Good luck guys." said Arron.
To the increasing cheers of half drunk revelers, Foxwell, Rosek, Gilman, Catlow and the other contestants took their positions. The air on the stage became heavier. The many fights that brought them this far was a baptism of fire, testing their endurance and pushing their mental state to its limits.
"Match, START!" shouted the announcer. The crowd went wild.
On the stage, Foxwell drowned out the crowd as he focused on Rosek in front of him. The wild carefree cheering faded into a dull buzz in the background. Unsheathing his sword, Foxwell met Rosek in the middle of the stage.
BANG BANG BANG!
Rosek was good. Almost as good as Arron in Foxwell's mind. However, that small margin of difference was enough for him to push Rosek back. He would have had to be better than Arron to have a chance.
Foxwell stabbed towards Rosek's neck. He managed to dodge, eyes wide at how close the blade was. Foxwell pulled the blade back, swinging it at an arc so that it followed Rosek. Stepping back in a rush, Rosek tried to deflect the incoming blade.
As Foxwell’s blade reached the peak of its arc, he let go and lunged towards Rosek. Rosek had managed to bring his blade up, but so focused was he on Foxwell's sword that he didn't realize it was a diversion.
Foxwell closed the distance in less than a heartbeat, coming in low to land a blow on Rosek's undefended flank. The sound of cracking ribs was audible to the crowd. He spun behind Rosek and threw him over his shoulder, slamming him to the ground in a heap. Dazed, Foxwell disarmed Rosek and held the point of his own blade just under the chin.
"I surrender." croaked Rosek.
"Winner! Armand Foxwell! Alec Rosek surrenders."
On the other stage, Gilman had an easier time. Although a bit of a jester to his friends, Gilman was gifted enough to be qualified for Drayton's class. His swordplay had plenty of room for refinement, but he made up for it in patience and endurance. His attacks were relentless, not giving Catlow any sort of reprieve.
After several minutes, the lack of opportunity to strike and the continuous barrage frustrated Catlow and he attempted to counter attack. His timing was off and Gilman skewered him right through the neck. Catlow tried to swallow blood but was unable to. Gilman ripped his sword out at an angle, slicing half of his neck off. Blood sprayed towards the revelers below.
"Winner! Ward Gilman! Clean kill!" shouted Flynn.
**********
It didn't take long for Arron's turn to arrive. They had been exposed to a lot of blood, gore and death in the first day alone. Arron and Darell had thrown up one more time before their stomach settled and they gritted their teeth in grim determination.
Seeing the people they cut down at the earlier stages up and about, fully recovered and enjoying the festivities eased their mind to an extent. They had played other VR games before, but death was just a matter of pixels disappearing. It was a different experience altogether.
Arron walked up the stage to face his opponent. The person in front of him was named Dillon Bancroft. He was 21 years old from what Arron knew and is one of the peak stage Adepts training to breakthrough to Master level. Dillon had dedicated part of his training to his body and what stood before Arron was a muscular man with more years of experience than he.
He knew it was going to be a tough battle in the beginning and had opted to switch his single 80 cm blade for dual 40 cm blades. While the reach could be advantageous, Arron understood that Dillon was taller and had longer arms making this moot. What he needed, was to get up close and deal as much damage as possible.
"Match, START!" announced Flynn.
"I have to admit folks, this is a bit of a mismatch. On the one side we have 21 year old Bancroft whose muscles make him look like he's competing for a weightlifting competition... and on the other, we have 15 year old Markell who looks like he's barely out of his diapers." joked Flynn.
"Pay close attention folks, this could be a very interesting match! Or I could be talking shit..." he added. The crowd laughed.
Arron had held the left blade in a traditional grip while the right was held in reverse. He circled Dillon, trying to find a weakness. Dillon wielded a single 80 cm blade, pivoting from his position to keep Arron in his sights. He knew he didn't have to give chase. Arron will come to him soon enough.
With all the speed he could generate from the force his legs exerted on the ground as he pushed off, Arron attacked. Dillon had the advantage of reach and when Arron was within range, he chopped down with such force that the flooring of the stage chipped on contact.
Arron had been expecting it and had immediately jump rolled to the right. As he exited the roll, his right blade swung to cut Dillon's left calf before stabbing his outer left thigh with the other blade.
"Aaarggghh!" screamed Dillon. "Sneaky little shit..." he said as his swing missed and Arron rolled away.
A pool of blood collected around Dillon's left foot. His pivot was now slower and more awkward as he was unable to put much pressure on his left leg. Arron circled him like a shark.
"Come on you coward!" shouted Dillon. He knew he was bleeding out and needed to finish this match before he was too weak to continue. He half hopped to keep up with Arron who was trying to get into his blind spot.
Arron charged. Halfway to Dillon, Arron threw his left blade forcing Dillon to parry. He threw his right blade which embedded itself into Dillon's mid section and continued his rush forward.
Recovering from his parry, Dillon slashed down at an angle. Arron slid but was unable to completely avoid the blade, a huge gash appearing on his mid section.
"Argh!" he grunted as he focused on his next move. As he slid closer to Dillon's left leg, he kicked at the kneecap with all the force he could muster from his current position. Aided by the momentum of his slide, a loud pop could be heard as Dillon's knee gave way.
Dillon couldn't help but collapse on the ground, his weight pushing Arron's blade through his mid section, the steel blade glistening and visible from his back. Dillon was still alive and trying to push himself off the ground. He refused to surrender.
Arron, his own injury deep and bleeding faster than Dillon's, knew he would pass out soon. He fetched one of his blades with faltering steps, one hand clutching at his wound. He walked up to Dillon and with blade in hand buried it at the back of his head.
"Wow... that was fucking brutal..." said Flynn unintentionally over the mic. "Err.. Winner! Arron Markell! Clean kill!". He didn't need to call for a medic team, they all stood ready by the stages expecting the worst.
After the announcement was made, Arron passed out.
**********
Hunter, Darell, Gilman, Corbin and Foxwell all ran to the medical bay following the match.
"I'm sorry guys but I can't allow you to come in here." said a medic. "There's not enough room inside for visitors so if you like you can wait at the sitting area outside."
The group didn't force the issue and complied with the medic. Out in the hall, they bumped into Camilla Chalet.
"Camilla. Hello." said Hunter.
"Hey Hunter." replied Camilla as she kissed his cheek and gave him a hug. All other eyes in the immediate surrounding were wide with shock.
"Ahem. Let me introduce. This is my brother Darell and these guys are friends. That's Armand Foxwell, Dwight Corbin and Ward Gilman. Guys, this is Camilla Chalet. She's a.."
"A close friend." she said. She turned back to Hunter and asked "Have you seen Heidi? I asked her to do me a favour.". She emphasized the words 'do me'.
It wasn't lost on Foxwell, Corbin and Gilman. Gravity thought it would be fun to stretch their jaws to the ground.
"Err. Actually I haven't seen Heidi. Maybe she's with Irene or training?" he replied, trying to sound casual.
"Mm. Is that so... well, let me look for them then. Training is more fun with more people. Do you want to come? We can use your sword." she said as she looked at him from head to toe and back, each sentence dripping with double meanings.
"Ah, no I'll pass for today. I'm looking after my brothers during their tournament." he replied, now starting to turn pink.
"Suit yourself." she said as she put a finger on his lips and walked away. "See you later boys."
"Hahaha! You guys are so funny." said Darell pointing at Corbin, Foxwell and Gilman. "I can stick my foot in with your mouths hanging like that."
Recovering first, Corbin stammered "B... b... bro..."
"Camilla is a friend of sorts. Irene was the one that introduced her, seems they're from the same class." explained Hunter. There was no way he was going to say that he just bedded all three.
"Corbin. You're drooling." said Foxwell. Gilman was still dazed, his eyes had a far away look. Moments later, Arron came out of the medical bay good as new.
"That was a great fight Arron. Had us worried there." said Foxwell.
Arron shook his head, turning to Hunter. "That cut, it's like a fire burned inside and I could feel my insides trying to slip out of my body. That feeling... if I didn't pass out I would have pissed and shat in my pants. I don't know how you managed it out there bro. "
"One thing that got engraved in my mind during my time in the wilds is that we humans will always do what we can to survive. When such a time comes, you'll understand that there is nothing more important. Not even pride." said Hunter, a solemn expression on his face.
"This goes for all of you. Treat this tournament as if you would never return if you died. It is better for you to learn these things here where you can revive." he added.
"Attention. Darell Markell and Rory Weyer. Please proceed to Stage 4. I repeat, Darell Markell and Rory Weyer to Stage 4." came the announcement.
**********
Author’s Notes
This was a tough chapter to write. There were too many things flashing in my mind and I tried to put them into words as best I could. I hope it's satisfactory!
Day 1 continues tomorrow.
-Harven
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