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Chapter 11

For the next thirty minutes, real life-time, the Sergeant instructed me on using the halberd and, once I had the basics for that, started shouting for me to use my Rage, to let it guide me. That resulted in my first class ability, Harnessing Rage, and its associated skill, Fighting Rage. It gave me increased Strength and Damage while reducing my Defense and continually draining Mana to keep it active. It was essentially the continuous version of the Power Attack I had learned, I could even use both at the same time. That made me “miss” the dummy for the first time, my weapon not drawing a glowing line through its body but deflecting slightly, making me almost lose my footing. A few more tries, with the halberd, got me a few more hits, but they drained more stamina than using it with the Two-Handed Axe. That made at least some sense, heavier weapon takes more effort to swing around, sound logic.

I wasn’t quite sure how better, or rather, higher levelled, weapons would act, as the Power Attack was dependant on their weight. That meant that either, the skill would turn out to be relatively useless or things would get… interesting, with weapons heavy enough to break the character’s bones, just by swinging them. Sure, you could grab the end of your weapon and start spinning like a top, letting go of the weapon once you thought that everyone was dead, but I didn’t consider that a viable option for fighting.

All in all, the Sergeant gave me some good instruction, bringing my Halberd Ability up to Novice V and actually allowing me, the player, to use the Halberd in an efficient fashion, to stab, to cleave and, maybe most important of all, to keep my weapon under control. It made me understand why people played with the virtual equivalent of mouse and keyboard, even if they used their chip to give the input. Right-clicking on an enemy and automatically having your character attack it in a controlled and stable manner was easy, allowing you to focus on tactics and similarly keeping an eye on everything. I was just now getting the hang of attacking a dummy that didn’t fight back, or move in any way at all, so it drove home the point that the skill floor was a lot lower using direct control. On the other hand, the skill ceiling, what you could do once you mastered your character, was higher as well.

My training ended when the original guard returned with two additional guards and, after getting a piece of parchment from the Sergeant, ordered me to follow them. At this point, I was quite sure that the slave collar was no longer enforcing his orders, there might be a time limit, but I was just as sure that the Sergeant would send me to respawn instantly if I started something. So, I played the meek slave, following them back into the lamp-lit tunnels, carefully keeping an eye out for anything that might help me in my escape. It might have been possible to fight all three of them, but unarmed, unarmoured and starting the fight with two of them behind me, I was not liking my chances but they were on the rise, just three level one guards, compared to an enemy whose level was only denoted with a skull.

After walking through a few tunnels, we got to a long, upwards sloping hallway, which we followed. We passed a tunnel leading downwards and a mix between scream and shout echoed from down there, causing one of the guards to snicker and comment, “Seems like one of the beast-baits is not liking the training.” before we continued on. We passed more rooms and junctions, which made it hard to keep track of everything, but I tried. Finally, I noticed a bit of blue sky in the distance, making it obvious that it was an exit but before i could get any smart ideas, one of the guards stopped and knocked on a door.

A voice from the inside called for us to enter, so the guard in front opened to door and entered ahead of me, while the other two waited outside.

I followed behind, as originally ordered, and the room I entered looked like an incredibly plush office. It instantly struck me as odd, an office that I would have considered more appropriate for a house of questionable repute in a building that was supposed to be a mixture between an arena and a temple, but considering that sneering witch-face from outside was the one sitting in the plush chair behind the enormous desk, I had an idea who was responsible for the pink, plush couch, complete with red heart-shaped pillows. On that couch, Greasy Face sat, with a cup of something and some cookies in front of him, his face a mixture of anticipation and annoyance.

“Ah, finally, the last one is assessed. Which buffoon took that long to give a price for a newly caught slave?” Greasy Face questioned in an almost whiny voice.

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“It was assessed by Sergeant Lee himself.” Witch Face stated, causing Greasy Face to blanch. “You have heard of him?” she asked, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“Yes, of course, I have. He is known to be one of the hardest, but also fairest of those assessing Gladiators.” he allowed. It just furthered my curiosity, making me wonder what sort of character that was, Greasy Face had just lost points in negotiating by allowing for the assessor to be above reproach, so the Sergeant must have a scary reputation, at least towards two low-level NPCs.

“Very good. Then you certainly have no problem with his assessment, right?” Witch Face instantly pounced on the weakness shown while taking the note the Sergeant had given to the guard, opening and reading it. She grimaced for a moment, before standing up, walking around her desk and taking the sofa opposite of Greasy Face and passing the note to him.

“You can leave us. This will take a while.” Witch Face stated as she sat down, sending the guard away. Before I could decide whether to attack as soon as the guard was out, Greasy Face took out the rod I had seen before, making it glow and ordering me to stand near the wall, between the two of them. Biding my time, I, again, obeyed.

The two of them then started into a negotiation that was, honestly, rather fun to watch, neither of them willing to give an inch, trying to gain the best price and added conditions they could. At points, Greasy Face threatened to simply leave, take his wares and go to sell them elsewhere, while Witch Face threatened to have her father arrest him on charges of kidnapping, using the fact that the Horsethief was human as a negotiating tool. Sometimes, one of them would get loud, with the other watching them posture with an icy face, other times, they would talk as if they were the best of friends or maybe lovers, about to rip off each others clothes. It was truly a spectacle. I would have enjoyed watching them dicker back and forth, if it hadn’t been me they were dickering over. Instead, I tried to blend into the wall, not easy given that it was covered in garish tapestries, waiting for a chance.

Finally, the two of them agreed on a price and conditions, Witch Face stood, looking slightly exhausted from their negotiations and walked to the massive desk, starting to rummage around in it. Greasy Face stood, following after her, standing next to the desk, his hair even greasier than before, his face read and beads of sweat were visible. I could even smell him, the unpleasant odour tickling my nose.

When Witch Face had what she had been looking for, she walked around her desk-chair, handing the parchment to Greasy Face who started reading it carefully before apparently deciding that it was what he wanted and placing it on the desk, to sign. After signing, he, once again, took out the accursed metal rod and this time, when he raised it a little, the runes stopped glowing, making it look a lot less eerie and intimidating, merely a metal stick.

It was in that moment, I realised what might just have happened and, when Greasy Face reached out to hand the rod over to Witch Face, I finally was able to strike. The two of them were mere feets away, maybe they had forgotten that I was even in the room over their posturing, maybe they thought I was passive, I didn’t know what drove them but I knew that I had a chance. And I would take it.

Clicking the mental button that activated my Fighting Rage, I struck, one hand going for Greasy Face’s neck, the other just trying to get the rod away from either of them. I was rewarded with a squeaky noise, I wasn’t quite sure which of them had let it out, and a crunching sound when my hand connected with his wrist. Feeling that my large hand had wrapped around his neck, I took hold, no longer focusing on him, but trying to get at Witch Face before she could scream.

With one hand occupied and, really, no idea how to fight unarmed but the advantage of near total immunity against pain and a bit of an reckless disregard of my life, I would respawn anyway, Witch Face and I started to tussle. She had the upper hand, until I tossed Greasy Face against the large desk, stunning him and freeing up my second hand. Now, the fight was much closer, even if she was on a higher level. Our fight wasn’t some sort of martial arts fight, it was a mess of scratching, slapping and trying to get leverage. I wasn’t about to step back, allowing her to bring whatever skills she had to bear, so I was stuck with the awkward, crowded position we were in. Finally, I saw an opening and took it. Not to strike her, or to kick her, no, I went for the throat, literally, goring her neck with my tusks. It wasn’t really a bite and I had no idea what drove me to try it, but the result was undeniably effective.

A short glimpse told me that I had scored a critical hit, that I had scored a fatal hit and a blue window added that I had learned a new skill, Vicious Bite. All that helped to distract me from the fact that my face was covered in red, slightly sticky, blood and that I had just ripped out a human’s throat. Taking deep breaths, I started to repeat the mantra “It’s just a game!” in my head, finally understanding why Full Diving was mainly for adults.