Only a select few had entered the Ignitio Realm along with Ryke. Darriwil had long since been ready to enter the next unknown realm, while Kievra, Lycus, and two boys he didn’t know the name of who he’s going to refer to as Spear and Sword. That made only six of a few dozen after a couple weeks. These five were automatically slotted as part of the top ten, and anyone who believed they could beat them would be able to challenge them. Today was the only day specifically meant for challenges however; they’d have to be carried out on a case by case basis after this.
Darriwil kept his top spot undisputed, while Ryke got second. They would all have to fight between each other to decide the rankings. He prepared himself to fight Kievra, Spear and Sword; knowing Lycus probably wouldn’t challenge him just like how Ryke wouldn’t challenge him.
He hadn’t sparred with anyone after the day Darriwil slashed his thigh open, while some of these people were fighting every day. He wouldn’t doubt that they all had more experience than him, he just had to rely on his body being stronger than theirs. He didn’t realize just how much of an advantage he had over the rest at first, but Fairrin trained his body well through the forge. Once he figured out how to transition a lot of that muscle memory into the glaive rather than the hammer, he’d be set. Watching the rest of the first years fight would help, too.
He still remembered the way Darriwil used momentum in their fight. Each slash would bounce off with the recoil being used to strengthen the next. It was a chain of attacks that made it harder and harder for Ryke to defend until his glaive was eventually cut through. The biggest issue though was that he had no idea how to use a glaive. Didn’t know any forms, stances, maneuvers: he was a clean slate.
It was also now that they finally figured out how many first years there were: forty three in total. Only ten would receive rewards, the rest would have to try their best to catch up afterwards- something he wasn’t quite keen on doing. It was obvious enough as is how quickly some people can get ahead even if by sheer dumb luck, and Ryke didn’t like to lose much.
It took about an hour for those who hadn’t sensed the Aurelius Flame to finally finish all their fights, leading Caius to 7th place while Ofrir remained in tenth, the rest of his acquaintances being littered within the top twenty to thirty. Ryke felt like a piece of meat as practically everyone but Lycus stared at him. They knew he hadn’t been fighting much, and his strength didn’t seem to phase most of them. Great.
“Challenge-”
Caius nodded to Sigmar, before pointing his sword at Ryke, his tower shield strapped to his arm with his hand tight around the handle.
“Caius challenges for second place.”
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He only had two choices. Go for the legs, or somehow deal with the shield. He held the physical advantage over Caius, he just needed to figure out how to capitalize on it. The glaive struck against the shield and forced Caius a step back. Quickly stepping back, he forced the glaive to the side and knocked away the sword that came for his extended hand.
With the same movement the glaive swept towards Caius’ head and was met with the edge of the tower shield. The hook at the bottom of the glaive caught the shield’s edge and Ryke didn’t miss a beat, using the built up momentum to pull the shield towards him. Ryke’s eyes widened as he felt the shield move and expose his opponent’s chest. Holding his stance and not minding the momentum finally being lost, he twisted the glaive to make sure the shield was unhooked and pierced forth at Caius’ chest in one go.
At the same time he pushed the end of the glaive forward, using the middle to block Caius’ last attempt at an attack, bouncing the blade off the shaft. Ryke connected with his chest and sent the youth tumbling to the ground out of breath. He had never gotten within three feet of him.
“Vinor challenges for second place!”
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Ryke didn’t have much time to rest as Sword, apparently named Vinor, walked up to him with his greatsword. The weapon had as much reach if not more than the glaive, and he didn’t feel too good about it. He used his strength advantage to beat Caius, but he wasn’t too sure he could afford the same with Vinor. Especially without time to rest between.
Before he knew it, the greatsword came rushing down overhead, forcing Ryke to step to the side. He ran forward, startling Vinor into quickly trying to pull the sword back for another swing, but it was blocked by the base of the glaive, the dull edge bouncing off the wooden shaft. The strike did force the glaive back towards Ryke, but he once again carried the momentum of the blow back and slammed the shaft into Vinor’s stomach. The greatsword fell from his hands with a wheeze as the other youth fell to the ground; leaving Ryke standing alone out of breath.
Caius had relied on his shield too much against his glaive, while the fight with Vinor ended even faster, the boy assuming the battle would be fought at a distance; a grave mistake. If the other boy was stronger than he was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the recoil so easily. He didn’t like that he was basically relying on tricks and oversights to win, but Ryke didn’t want to give up his spot. Gently placing the ‘blade’ of the glaive to Vinor’s neck, he asked the Lanista to call the fight there.
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“Hadrianus challenges Ryke for second place.”
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The battle against Spear was by far the most exhausting. His opponent seemed to know the advantages of a polearm as well as he did, Ryke’s only advantage being the heavier weapon and his overall strength being better. Each attack was met by the spear point or some part of the shaft, while each of Spear’s attacks were met the same way. It was a battle of patience and timing that neither truly seemed to have the advantage in.
Finally deciding he couldn’t waste more energy on a fight incase Kievra decides to challenge him. He took one step forward, thrusting the glaive forward. Hadrianus stepped back quickly, bring his spear up to block a follow through slash. He was met only with the blade of the glaive to his neck, as Ryke loosened the grip of his front hand to allow a second thrust with the hand at the base of the polearm, giving him an extra few feet of distance that closed the gap.
The blade was caught by a pair of fingers in less than a moment, forever stopping the weapon from hitting it’s target. Sigmar had abruptly appeared within his view, staring quietly at him. The glaive was forced back with a slight movement that sent Ryke stumbling back a few steps, while freeing his poor opponent from the potential fate of having his throat crushed by the dull weapon.
Hadrianus gave both of them a nod, pale faced and covered in sweat when he moved to go find a place to sit down, leaving Lycus and Kievra the only ones who hadn’t fought yet. The merchant’s son made no move to challenge, while Kievra stared at him for a few moments before shaking her head; she was already third place. There was no point in a challenge.
“Were you aware you could have killed him?”
Ryke broke out of his stupor confused, oddly not wishing to meet the Lanista’s gaze as he tried to answer the man’s sudden question.
“How-”
“His throat. You’d have crushed it with that much force.”
“I-”
“You did it without thinking?”
“Yes.”
Silence reigned briefly among the first years, not sure why Sigmar called Ryke out after saving Hadrianus. Most held their heads down as if afraid to somehow get caught up in the matter but a relative few made up of his ‘friends’ and a few others continued to stare at the situation, puzzled by it all. Lycus even tried getting closer.
“You did it on instinct?”
“I wanted to save energy for the next fight.”
“I see.”
The Lanista turned to face the crowd, forcing the rest to look at the floor in fear. He took a moment to look at Caius, Vinor and Hadrianus, then finally settled on Lycus, Kievra and Darriwil, none of which seemed to want to fight. A slow nod came from the man, before he walked back up to the altar, picked up his spear and slammed it against the floor.
“The initial rankings stand!”
“Darriwil, 1st
Ryke, 2nd
Kievra, 3rd
Lycus, 4th
…
Caius, 7th
…
Ofrir 10th
…
Maximus, 18th
…
Sol, 21st
…
Castor, 43rd
You are all dismissed for the day. Meet here at noon tomorrow.”
Another bang of his spear against the stone floor and Sigmar was suddenly gone within seconds, having walked with such a pace he could have been sprinting down a corridor. He didn’t explain much else about the ranking, or how to challenge others after today, but for some reason no one felt they were in the mood to ask, or that he was in the mood to answer.
Some strange looks came Ryke’s way as he inspected the glaive, finding some things he’d change about the weapon if he could, and some he particularly liked. It was basically a saber on a stick, and he felt it matched him quite well.
Heading to the canteen once he lost focus, he immediately cashed in on the perks of being in the top three, bringing the food back to his dorm with a tad bit of guilt, feeling poorly about how he won each time. That sentiment was quickly lost though as he tasted the food. Heavenly. Ryke couldn’t tell if it was from the meat itself, the way Lamse cooked it- or both. The portion was downed within seconds and he quickly felt a heat building up in his chest, almost overwhelmingly so. It felt like he’d burn up if he didn’t sit down.
Fromir swiftly found his way into Ryke’s lap as the boy sat down on his cot after the meal to meditate, quickly trying to bring the vitality under control to run the scripture. The pain was immeasurable as he formed tides unlike any prior, using them to carve a straight path to his stomach that cut clean through.
Then the feeling changed. The pain went away, only a sense of slight tingling and warmth as the vitality wrapped around something vague, an uncomfortable sensation of pin pricks inside his abdomen. He had carved the first path.